Half Marks
by Starrynight-Blue and Gray
Summary: Set before books 6 & 7 about Draco becoming a Death Eater and then running away. This is a very old story, if you see an error, please let me know.  Draco and Harry.
1. Chapter 1: Darkest before the Dawn

**Chapter 1: Darkest before the Dawn**

The universe hadn't thought his life bad enough and was doing everything in its power to make it worse. He shook his head, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to curse loud and long but he was too tired to think of anything interesting. He'd spent the last couple of nights wide-awake in a state of minor irritating panic. That's what happened when your way of thinking for your entire life had been challenged and then promptly ripped to shreds in a few moments.

It was making his head hurt. These people weren't supposed to be powerful, or helpful or anything else. They were supposed to be ignorant, stupid, and deserving of death at the hands of his father's Lord. That's how it was supposed to be, that was he was raised to believe. Power was everything, and if you had the power, you were on top. The power came through your bloodline and that had to be pure. It was essential for it to be pure. Now, here was this pureblood, who was powerful, no one could doubt that. He was perhaps the most powerful in existence, maybe even more powerful than his father's Lord. Yet he interacted freely with those…yes they were people, they even had some power. Especially…that girl. He was loathe to even think of her name. All of this was her fault. She was as powerful as any of those who were pureblood, perhaps even more, yet she was the first in her family. How? How could that happen? It shouldn't have been possible and yet it was.

No it wasn't her fault…She didn't like him anymore than he thought that he didn't like her. His father's Lord? He shook his head as if the thought of that creature would bring call his attention. The wording was carefully chosen. It was his father's Lord, not his, not now. He had always been quick to fall into his father's ways. His father…his father tried to control his life and had succeeded for the most part. It hadn't bothered him when he was young, but as he grew older he had found flaws in the thinking. At first he thought that they were his flaws and he tried to get rid of them but it didn't work, the thoughts kept nagging him.

The fact had been haunting him even since he had met them, those three. How could it be that way? Two purebloods and a mudblood so powerful that she could rival any pureblood. How could they all get along? Why did they have to make him question everything he had always believed in? It made his head ache.

And now he was stuck here with him, the Boy Who Lived, the Gryffindor extraordinaire, and a general righteous pain in the ass. The very person he had been taught to hate and yet, by the same creed he had lived by, to respect at the same time. A young man that had power and power was attractive. He shook his head again, sending the normally carefully slicked hair cascading over his eyes. He clutched his broom harder, trying to center on something. A cold, sharp wind picked up and he shivered, now all the more aware that he'd lost the heavy cloak he had been wearing.

Only a few moments ago he had been engaged in one of his normal fights with Harry. In the hopes that something this familiar and supposedly right would clear his head. The fight had gone too far and they had found themselves veering off course. The same wind that was making him shiver now had knocked Harry off his broom and in a fit of something that Draco wasn't sure of, he had saved Harry from falling. Their combined weight was too much in the strange wind and they crash landed. So with one broom that they couldn't fly due to the strange wind and their wands, which were thankfully intact, they were stuck and lost in the Forbidden Forest.

"Did you see anything when we were falling?" Harry's voice made him snap his head up.

He should've responded with some witty retort insulting Harry's intelligence, but he was too tried to even try. "Besides the trees? No, all I saw were the black clouds."

Harry glared. "You got us here, you could've at least seen something!"

Draco stared back at him, unable to even snap back. Anger wasn't working. He couldn't be angry, wasn't this his fault after all? He rubbed his forehead. Damnit this was confusing! He should hate! He should have anger and cutting words, but all he wanted was sleep. Anger and pride had been his strength and now it was his weakness.

Harry noticed the strange silence, but didn't say anything. Of course he was concerned about the dark rings under Draco's eyes, but he thought he could guess their origins. The Slytherin role model was probably up all night planning his pranks. But what really bothered him was that instead of a look of smug satisfaction there was only exhaustion. He just looked downright miserable and that just wasn't a look that you saw on Draco Malfoy's face. Even when his greatest plots failed the young man would often turn to anger and lash out at those around him, now it looked like he was lashing himself and Harry wasn't all that comfortable. It was probably the look of near defeat in Draco's eyes that was getting to him.

"Let's just get out of here alive, Potter." Draco said. His voice was odd in that it lacked malice of any kind. He stared into the darkness, as if trying to see the dangers that would be lurking there. He drew his wand and pointed it at the sky. Red sparks flared up and then promptly died before they rose above the tree line. Draco tried again and this time the sparks barely left the tip of his wand. Draco swore under his breath.

"Easier said than done." Harry noted taking of his glasses and cleaning them on the hem of his shirt. "You're assuming that someone can see that. No one's looking for us yet."

"Lumos!" Draco said in a growl ignoring what he guessed to be smugness. The light flickered at the tip of his wand, faltering as if struggling to stay lit. A moment of anger welled up, but then it died down leaving him feeling tired and weak. He was too exhausted to make the magic work, but he wasn't about to tell Harry that.

"We're going to get points taken away." Harry said almost as an afterthought as he put his glasses back on his face, wondering if he could rile Draco. He was more comfortable with a snapping Draco than with the one he had with him right now. He was unnerved by the fact that their magic seemed to not be working. He wanted something familiar.

"Big deal." Draco muttered. "We'll get them back."

"You aren't worried that it would cause you to lose the cup?" Harry prodded.

Draco turned around slowly. "The House Cup or my life?" He scoffed. "Do you want to die for Gryffindor, Potter? Go right ahead, but I'm not going to die for Slytherin." The words fell out of his mouth before he really realized what he was saying, but once they were spoken he was glad that he had said them. Yes. That was right. He valued his life. Not the hopes and dreams of others who would do him a bad turn as fast as look at him. At the moment the House Cup could go and bugger itself for all he cared.

Harry felt a little more comfortable now, but only a little. He trailed a few steps behind Draco as they started walking. "House points aren't worth dying over."

"Then we agree on something at least." Draco muttered, more for saying something than letting the conversation die than for anything the words meant. He didn't want to stop talking. He didn't want to hear the sounds of the forest around them.

"That's a first." Harry noted, drawing his wand when a cracking branch startled him. Draco wasn't far behind, wand already pointed towards the noise. The branch crashed through the trees some distance away and the two looked at each other. "We're going to have to work together to get out of here, you know." Harry said the adrenaline rushing through his body and leaving his legs shaky.

Draco just nodded, that was the typical Harry thing to say. He'd already figured as much, but he didn't want to be the first one to say it, he was sure his voice would sound too hopeful. By his upbringing he should've left Harry to fall to his death, and by the same token he should've taken off running and left Harry to the woods. He had always tried to thwart Harry. Professor Snape was practically his hero for the way he always tried to bring down Gryffindor, especially Harry. Now he was trying to save Harry's life.

Harry was too powerful; he would find a way to survive. He tried to reason that the only reason he was still here was because Harry was powerful and it was safer to be with someone who had a chance of winning against the things that lurked here. He knew what his father would want him to do. Lure Harry into thinking they were allies until they came up against something, then throw Harry to it and run for safety. Once he got there he could claim that Harry was trapped out there thus neatly placing the blame on the monster in the forest. He twisted his face. That idea seemed sour to him and he shook his head again, the headache slowly coming back. Damnit! He just didn't need this now.

"Got any great ideas, Potter?" He said wishing that the other boy would stop dawdling and walk next to him. He didn't like the idea of being alone even if his only company was Potter.

Harry stared up at the fiercely tossing trees. "Fresh out." He mumbled stopping as he thought he caught the sound of horses in the distance. "Malfoy, wait!" He said a bit louder than he would've liked but it was the only way to be heard above the wind.

Draco stopped and turned slowly and Harry wished that he had snapped something, but the other boy just stood there, looking mildly irritated as his hair was tossed around his face. "Do you hear that?"

Draco paused and tried to tune his ears to hear sounds above the screaming wind. He felt the blood drain from his face and his eyes met Harry's. "Centaurs."

"Or unicorns." Harry said turning around trying to see where the threat would be coming from.

A tiny voice, hissing like a snake seemed to breathe words into his ear. Run now. If you run now, he won't catch you and you'll be safe. Draco shook his head to get rid of the sound and he grabbed Harry's billowing cloak. "Don't just stand there, idiot! Run!" He pulled as hard as he could, making Harry stumble, but Draco half hauled him to his feet and they ran.

Even with his heart beating in his ears he could still hear the hoof beats behind them. It was no good, whatever it was would catch them easily, they had to fly. The hissing voice returned, louder this time, it seemed. That's right, get on your broom and leave Harry behind. He'll distract the creatures and you'll get away.

Draco wanted to scream, but he bit his lip instead as he stuffed his wand back into its holster in his sleeve. He glowed faintly through the cloth, creating barely enough light to see. He flipped his broom under his legs. "Up!" He shouted into the wind, which seemed to howl stronger, trying to drive them backwards. He got a hand around Harry's arm and heaved him sideways, hoping that hey would have enough sense to throw his legs over the broom, which was already moving a few feet above the ground. He wasn't even sure why he was bothering, wrangling with Harry was costing precious time. He could still hear the voice. It would've been easier just to knock Harry out of the way and fly.

"What are you doing?" Harry yelled as he took a hold of Draco's waist. "We can't fly!"

"We can't run either!" Draco shouted back urging the broom forward. "We've got at least half a chance this way." They took off through the forest, branches hitting Draco when he couldn't avoid them. The hoof beats never seemed to slack behind them. Draco tried the moves he knew from being a Seeker, but Seekers were used to wide open skies and maybe another play trying to knock them down, they weren't trained to travel through dense forests with a double load on the broom. Draco didn't want to even begin to think that he was only a Seeker because of his father's donation.

"It's only built for one!" He heard Harry say, even through the howling wind.

"It's faster!" Draco yelled back wishing that Harry would just shut up. He was trying to concentrate on staying alive and not on the fact that his worst enemy was sitting behind him. His face and neck stung where the branches hit him, leaving gashes there and on his arms. The wind rocked the broom underneath him. It was taking all his concentration to keep the broom on its course. The wind stung his eyes and the pain that had started just above his brows now threatened to ally itself with the dark wind and blind him.

"We don't even know which direction we're going!" Harry shouted back.

Draco swore again. He half turned to make himself heard. "Shut _up_, Potter!" He shouted hurting his throat. He turned back in time to have several large branches hit him hard in the face. He swerved suddenly and their weight shifted the broom. The wind took the chance to blow hard, tipping them further. Draco tried to throw his weight the other way, but it didn't work. He heard Harry yell as they tipped too far to one side. Aided by another well placed blow from a branch Draco lost his grip and tumbled down. His head was spinning and he slowly reached for his wand, but he got a grip on it too late. He landed with a resounding crash hitting his head hard on the ground. The world spun and he closed his eyes a dull ache spreading out from behind them.

He could still feel the wand in his hand and he tried to open eyes to focus on the light that he thought would be there, but he opened his eyes to near blackness. He couldn't hear the hoof beats anymore and he tried to sit up but everything ached and his head throbbed with the effort.

"Malfoy?" Harry's voice was almost incomprehensible in the wind that had only slowed slightly. Draco groaned in response. If Potter was going to take his broom and run now would've been the best time. He wondered why he hadn't tried to run and leave Harry to the forest but it was too late to regret.

"Malfoy!" The voice was closer and Draco opened his eyes to see a small glow of the reflection of a wand light in Harry's glasses. He closed his eyes again. He just wanted to sleep. Everything was too complicated right now. He would go to sleep and wake up to discover that it was all just a bad dream.

"Malfoy!" The shout in his ear made him wince. He opened his eyes and stared into almost snake like green eyes. Panic overwhelmed him for a moment but then subsided as the glasses drifted into view.

Harry was waiting for a scathing remark but Draco stared up at him, first scared and then with calmer almost blank eyes. His face, arms, and neck were covered with bleeding gashes from the trees. He looked horrid. "Malfoy, are you ok?" He asked, even though he expected he knew the answer. He held his wand closer, trying to see in the dim light. Draco's eyes definitely looked wide and dilated.

"Hit my head." Draco murmured, his voice slurred. He had always thought that "seeing stars" was just a saying, but small white lights danced in front of his eyes.

"You fell pretty hard." Harry agreed. He had fallen off when they had tipped to one side, but he had cast a levitation spell as soon as he had fallen and combined with the strange wind, he guessed, he had fallen fairly softly. Draco on the other hand, had fallen like a rag doll, crashing through trees and landing on his back on the ground.

"Can you move?" Harry shone the light around, trying to see if there were any large amounts of blood.

"Sshrm?" Draco murmured, his head swimming. He tried to pull his mind together but every thought made his head hurt more. He had thought he had heard Harry say something, but his head hurt too much to try to make sense of it.

"Can you stand up?" Harry decided to be more specific. He looked around, the wind seemed to be dying down and he couldn't hear the hoof beats anymore, but he could still feel something watching them. If it were the centaurs they seemed to be just watching them and despite his earlier words, Harry was almost sure that it wasn't unicorns, since they didn't like boys. It could have even been a hippogriff.

Draco rolled to one side, head swimming and various lacerations burning with every movement. He struggled to get to his feet. He felt Harry take his arm to help him to his feet and he normally would've shaken off the hands with a growl, but he didn't, he accepted the aid and rose to his feet. His pride howled at him to stand on his own, but he was too tired and too weak to care. He tried not to stagger as pain exploded in his head. He gripped his forehead, unable to see for several moments.

"We've got to get out of here." He said trying to look around for his broom, shivering in the cold wind. "Where's my broom?"

"You're not flying." Harry said taking a quick look around and pulled the broom out of the underbrush. It looked mostly undamaged, although there were several scratches in the finish and some twigs missing from the tail. "It's too dark and our magic isn't working right. We might as well wait for morning."

"Don't be a git, Potter." Draco said without opening his eyes. "We'll be killed if we stay here."

"We'll be killed if _you_ try flying again. Let me fly, we both know I'm better."

Draco felt some of the old anger that he'd always known flare back. It was familiar and safe, but it was also somehow strange. He whirled around, ready to lash back with cutting words, but the motion made the pain in his head worse and his stomach flipped. Harry was right, he was the better flyer, he was loathe to admit it, but it was true. He staggered but remained on his feet. He could barely see through the pain in his head. Harry was right if he tried flying again he was sure to kill them both and he didn't feel like dying tonight.

"Fine." He said trying to summon up the anger that had washed through him a moment ago, but it had all vanished, leaving only confusion in its wake. He wondered why he was still here and wondered why he couldn't even think up one insult. What was wrong with him?

"I don't want your broom if that's what you're worried about." Harry said, his voice exasperated.

"You fly us out of here." Draco said not even bothering to grace Harry's statement with a reply. It what he hoped was not a desperate and scared voice.

"Let's see where we are." He held out the broom to Draco who took it slowly. Harry put is wand in the flat of his hand. "Please work." He whispered. "Point me." He ordered. The wand spun frantically at first and then slowed, wavering back and forth as if unsure, it finally settled, pointing vaguely in the direction that Draco had been flying, then suddenly it snapped around and pointed in the opposite direction. It wavered again and pointed in a third direction.

Draco stared at the wand, his own still gripped tightly in his hand. The magic was being interfered with, as if someone wanted them to stay lost. He didn't know who or what was doing it, but when he found out they were going to be very sorry. Harry's eyes met his and Draco blinked several times trying to keep the double images at bay.

"We can't stay here." Draco said, words still a bit slurred. He surrendered the broom when Harry reached for it.

"No." Harry agreed. "Up." He told the broom. It rose slowly into the air. Harry climbed on and Draco followed behind, every step and movement a challenge. He climbed on behind Harry, hands only lightly clasping Harry's robe."Hold on." Harry warned and Draco reluctantly tightened his grip. The broom began to move slowly forward. Draco bowed his head and closed his eyes, trying to ease the pain. He was starting to feel the wounds on his arms and face and the cold wind was slowly numbing his skin. He started to shiver again.

What was he doing? He was actually helping Potter and now he was relying on Potter to get him safely out. He leaned forward, head hitting Harry's back. He didn't have the energy to raise it again. If his father knew he would be furious. Draco wasn't sure he could explain himself. He shifted on the back of the broom, trying to remove his head from Potter's back.

"Malfoy?" Harry's voice drifted back and then a hand closed over his arm.

Draco felt his heart jump and he swallowed hard. "Shut up and watch where you're going, Potter." He growled, words still slurring a little. What the hell was that? He wondered. Harry was sitting right in front of him, why had he jumped like that?

"Merlin's beard!" Harry swore, using Ron's favorite oath. "Malfoy, you're freezing!" Draco's skin was almost as cold as ice.

"I have a headache too." Draco said tersely trying not the shiver.

"What happened to your cloak?" Harry demanded, turning the broom as he tried to find the path.

"Lost it when you went down." He said. "Kind of you to notice so soon." His voice dripped with sarcasm. He felt a bit better now that they were back to doing something so normal.

Harry bristled and half turned. "I was more interested in not dying than in your robes."

"Watch where you're going." Draco retorted half heartedly pushing Harry's face forward.

Harry sighed. "It's too dark to fly, we might as well stop and try to get some sleep." The broom slowed.

Draco decided not to argue. The idea of sleep was very attractive at the moment. He was just so cold. He felt the broom slow to a stop. The exhaustion, cold, and the pain closed over him and he felt himself slipping sideways. He tried to correct and stop himself from falling, but his hands were too cold and wouldn't close. His hands slipped from Harry's robes and he tumbled to the ground cracking his head against it.

"Malfoy!" He heard Harry's voice and he tried to open his eyes.

Harry leapt off the broom. "This is no time for lolling about, Malfoy!" He growled. "Save it for the teachers!" He waited for the scathing response, but received none. He bent over the other boy and held his wand close to his face. "Lumos!" The wand's light flickered and just barely remained lit. Draco's face seemed paler than usual and his lips were almost blue. Draco's eyes flickered and tried to open but kept closing.

Harry began to feel panicked. Draco wasn't faking it. It was too dark to even begin to tell how serious he was injured. "Malfoy? Can you get up?" He almost pleaded. "Just get up so we can get under the those plants." He gestured to a large bush that looked like it would be able to shelter both of them. It was minimal protection, but it was something. They couldn't stay out in the open all night.

Draco heard him, and again slowly managed to push himself up. Harry hauled him up the rest of the way and they stumbled towards the bush, falling into the thick foliage. They landed tangled together and under normal circumstances Draco would have let lose a stream of insults. Harry was troubled with all Draco did was roll away and try to curl into a ball. Draco put one hand up to his head trying to stop the pounding. It seemed like the pain was getting worse.

"Nox." The wand light vanished. Harry took off his outer cloak and rolled onto his side and backed into Draco.

"Potter?" The voice was almost pitifully weak.

"I'm not going to let you freeze to death out here. You did save my life." Harry said testily as they lay back to back. He tossed their cloak over the two of them and then used a small spell to cover them both in leaves. The large plant blocked most of the cold wind.

Finally beginning to get warm again, Draco didn't argue. He was too exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning his body aching and stiff. The pain in his head settled to a dull ache. He opened his eyes to the dim light of pre dawn. He sat up slowly dislodging a carpet of dry leaves. He looked around, noting that Harry was still asleep next to him.

You could kill him now. The voice in his head returned and seemed louder and more insistent now that there was no wind to drown it out. He shook his head and stared down at the still sleeping Harry. The voice continued to hiss suggestions in his ear and he did his best to ignore it. He shifted and shook Harry's shoulder almost roughly.

"Wake up, Potter." He said as loudly as he dared. The sky was quickly becoming overcast, blocking the small amounts of sun that had been creeping over the horizons and through the thick trees.

Harry made some sleepy noises before his eyes fluttered open. He sat up yawning, leaves clinging to his always unruly hair. He turned, still half asleep, to face Draco.

"You still look like hell." He noted. Draco's face was covered with dried blood and bruises. His uniform was torn in several places and small amounts of blood stained most of those edges. He looked like he had been at the bad end of a bar fight.

"You look like a rubbish bin." Draco noted as he pulled a dry leaf out of Harry's hair with an uncustomary smile.

Harry stared at him for a moment wondering at Draco's smile, shook his head, brushing his hand through his hair to remove the leaves. "Let's get out of here." Harry stood up and retrieved his cloak. Draco rose more slowly and stared into the forest. He stared at his hands as if they had betrayed him. What the hell was going on?

They managed to find the path and shortly thereafter, Hagrid, who took them both back to the castle. They were both met with the promise detention and immediate deduction of points, although Draco's was to be served once he was released from Madame Pomfrey's care.

"You can do whatever you want with him tomorrow morning." She said sternly, applying the purple stinging salve to Draco's various cuts. Draco did his best to keep his face in his usual stony mask. "He fell from his broom and hit his head rather hard according Mr. Potter, not to mention some of this cuts are rather severe. He will spend the night to make sure there's no further damage." She looked sternly at the assembled teachers. "You should be happy they both survived a night in the Forbidden Forest. Punishment enough in my opinion."

Professor McGonagall looked a bit put out, but she nodded anyway. "I'll leave Mr. Potter here for you to take a good look at, please send him up to my office when you are finished."


	2. Chapter 2: Changing Heart

**Chapter Two: Changing Heart**

Draco lay awake staring up and down the long line of beds in the Hospital Wing. Harry had left sometime ago and by all accounts Draco should've been making plans to milk his time for as long as he could manage. He couldn't manage to think of anything except his dreams. He was wary of falling asleep again, even though he slept oddly soundly in the Forest, he'd spent most of his nights tortured by nightmares. They'd started almost a week ago and were just disjointed horrifying experiences. Most of them were short but graphic and persistent about staying behind his eyes and in his thoughts whenever he had a moment to think. He stared at the other empty beds trying to think of anything else, but he was still exhausted and soon fell asleep.

Draco stood in a round room. The walls were smooth, cold gray stone and the room felt cold and somehow evil. He couldn't see any doors and he walked to the wall, and felt the stone. It was solid and as cold as ice.

"Have you passed sentence?" A voice boomed.

Draco turned and reached for his wand, but it was gone. He stared into his sleeve; there wasn't even a holster there. Then he noticed his clothes. He wasn't wearing his Hogwarts robes or any kind of clothing that he was accustomed too. He looked like he was wearing muggle clothing that was torn, dirty, and stained with blood. He stared at himself in disgust before looking up to see who had spoken. He faced his father who was standing on a high small dais. Around him on smaller and shorter daises were Professor Snape, Dumbledore, Neville, Blaise and Pansy.

"Father? What's going on?" He started to walk towards the dais, but they all raised their wands and he couldn't move. He could feel hard gravel under his bare feet and the shadows in the room seemed to deepen further. He shivered as the room seemed to grow colder with every passing moment.

"Silence!" Pansy barked, raising her head in the manner of his mother and looking down her nose at him. She was dressed in a sleeveless green dress, but she didn't seem to be cold. Blaise was standing at her side, silently staring at him.

"Have you passed sentence?" Lucius asked again, looking briefly at Draco. His father's eyes glowed their usual gray at first but then began to change, black was creeping like oil over the edges.

"We sentence him to Azkaban." Professor Snape said in an even voice, as if he were reading off the list of ingredients to make a simple potion. He had stepped forward to make this pronouncement, and when was done he stepped back and vanished into the shadow.

"What?" Draco tried to keep his composure. "What crime have I committed?" He demanded, trying to approach again. Their wands rose once more and he couldn't move any closer.

"You are a Death Eater, Draco Malfoy." Dumbledore said walking to the end of his dais. His normally calm eyes flashed fire that matched the bright red robe he was wearing. "You will spend the rest of your life in Azkaban for crimes against both wizards and muggles."

"I'm not a Death Eater!" He turned to his father, but Lucius eyes had completed their change. They were now inky black from corner to corner. He grinned and a forked tongue slipped through his lips. "Father! Tell them!"

"You have killed many of those of half blood." Dumbledore continued as if Draco had never spoken.

Draco felt panic rising in his throat. "But…I…I've never…." He turned back to look at his father for help, but Voldemort was standing on the dais. Draco gasped and tried to scramble backwards.

"You sent my parents away!" Neville screamed, his wand pointed at Draco. "It's your fault!"

"It was him!" Draco pointed frantically at Voldemort. "It wasn't me! It was him!"

"You've blamed the Muggles of today for the sins of their ancestors and now you will pay for the sins of yours!" Neville said and stepped backwards, vanishing into the darkness.

"It wasn't me!" He screamed, trying to back away as Voldemort came closer. On the dais, Dumbledore nodded once and turned his back, walking into the blackness. Pansy laughed and extended her arm, Blaise took it, and led her away. They both vanished a few moments after entering the shadows. He was alone with the Dark Lord.

"Now, son." The snake man said in his father's voice, and walked forward holding his father's cane. "Do your family honor."

Draco tried to back away, but as he did fear claimed him and the room grew colder. He could see his breathe in the air.

"Go with them, son." The Voldemort creature ordered and grabbed his arm, causing a searing pain. Draco pulled away kicking, half seeing a Death Mark as he tried to run. He turned and came face to face with a Dementor who reached forward, one long skeletal hand wrapping around his throat. Draco struggled as his worst memories flashed in front of his eyes. Slowly the Dementor reached up with his other hand and threw back his hood. Draco screamed as the face of death came closer to his own.

Draco's own screams woke him as he sat bolt upright in his bed at the hospital wing. He stared around fanatically; almost grateful he was here instead of his room. He'd woken every one of his roommates several nights in a row with his screaming. His did his best to calm his rapid breathing. He pulled the long sleeve of his night clothes and stared at his arm. It was smooth with no sign of a mark. He breathed a long sigh of relief.

"Mr. Malfoy are you all right?" Madame Pomfrey seemed to appear out of nowhere and almost made Draco jump out of his skin. She stared at him with friendly, concerned eyes. "What's the problem? Are you in pain?"

"No!" He said a little too quickly. "No, I'm fine." He took several deep breaths. "I…" He wondered if he should admit to his nightmare. He wanted to get out of here; he needed air. "I just had a bad dream." He finally admitted. "It's nothing to worry about."

Madame Pomfrey nodded slowly. "You look very pale." She noted. "Perhaps I should've given you something to help you sleep. Why don't I do that." She turned to go. "I can excuse you from your classes today…"

"No!" Draco said with a bit too much panic in his voice. He didn't want to go back to sleep and have another nightmare. "No, that's ok. I…I…uh…I feel fine now, I just need to get some air." He still felt cold and was starting to shiver.

She looked surprised. "Are you saying that you want to go to class?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes!" Draco said trying to calm his voice. "I feel better." He said trying to get his voice to take on his old tone of scorn. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"

Madame Pomfrey gave him a long look, unaffected by the attempt. "You're shivering." She stated looking him up and down. "You may have a fever, now you climb right back into that bed, Mr. Malfoy. I'm going to go back to my office for just a moment if you're not here when I get back I'll make sure that you spend another detention right here."

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey." He said. He watched as she walked back towards her office, waiting until she was out of sight.

He could see the sun rising through the large windows at the end of the rows. He was slowly warming up, but the chill still crept over his back and kept looking over his shoulder, half expecting to see a Dementor gliding up the long aisle where she had just been. He dressed hurriedly and although his head still ached a bit he grabbed his broom which had been left under his bed and rushed out of the Wing.

He didn't care that everyone would probably be looking for and he didn't care that more points would be taken away. He leapt on his broom as soon as he stepped outside and took to the sky. He needed to be alone, and he needed to think.

He wanted to know what was happening to him. One day everything had been normal and the next day he had found himself questioning his entire life. He flew faster, relying on the wind to drown out his thoughts. It didn't work; they only grew louder and more insistent. Why had he saved Potter's life? Was it the power that the other boy had? Why did he feel like he was changing? He no longer wanted the future that his father had planned for him. He wanted no part in Voldemort's plans. He didn't want to hate anymore. Something inside of him was sick and tired of being the object of scorn. He felt like he was on the losing side of a war. He didn't want to lose. It was his nature to win, no matter what the costs. If winning meant changing sides, shouldn't he do it?

He flew his broom over the Forbidden Forest, as if daring it to conjure the same wind that it had conjured once before. It was silent now and the winds didn't change. He circled once, noticing the sun was growing low and he could see students flying near the Qudditch pitch. He decided to turn back, not wanting to be caught and questioned. He had been gone longer than he thought and he was starting to feel hungry. He was sure that someone would have gone to the Hospital Wing looking for him probably to bring him dinner and had learned that he was not there. He wasn't sure he wanted to think of the double detention that he was going to be serving as soon as he appeared. He flew a bit lower and then noticed something in the trees.

His curiosity got the better of him and he circled lower, finally spotting Harry's broom caught in the top branches of one tree. It must've drifted down when Harry had fallen. He reached down and scooped it up on a pass. He stared at it, tempted to smash it, or throw it in the lake. He could've easily put a hex on it to make it throw Harry at a strategic point in the next Qudditch match. That's what he should do, that's what he would've done. He stared at the broom as if was going to have the answer. Why didn't he want to do it now? Didn't it make sense to be on Harry's side and if that was the case, he shouldn't sabotage a potential ally's broom. It made sense, didn't it?

He swore several times and turned his broom towards the Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor team would be holding a practice soon. They were always having practice. He would just fly in and drop the broom in front of Potter and leave. "Why am I doing this?" He wondered aloud. What strange thing was changing him? He flew towards the walking Gryffindors. He thought for a moment to just turn around and fly away, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to turn the broom.

"Did you hear about Draco saving Harry?" One of them was saying. Draco could hear sounds of disbelief and he wanted to curse again, but he bit his tongue. The whole school must've been talking about him. He flew around fast, almost knocking Harry down. Several other Gryffindor's called him names, but he ignored them.

"Damnit, Malfoy!" Harry glared at him. Ron was nearby and he moved as if to put himself between them.

Draco stared back at him, staying seated on his hovering broom and ignoring the red head. He thrust the broom at Harry. "What are you sentencing to the hellfire now, Potter?" He said almost automatically. "Here." He almost threw the broom. He wanted the broom away from him.

Harry stared at him, taking the broom and the rest of the Gryffindor's stared at them in silence. The only sounds came from a group of first year Gryffindor's that were having an extra tutorial in flying with Madame Hooch.

"It's some kind of trick! He's hexed it!" Ron said. "I'd check it before you flew on it." He glared at Draco. There were murmurs of agreement from the others who were slowly surrounding him.

Draco stared at Ron but he found that he didn't have the energy to glare. "I didn't hex it. Why would I even bother?" He said not even bothering to respond directly to Ron. "Go ahead and check." He turned his broom to get ready to leave when a scream got everyone's attention.

Draco snapped his head around. High above them, a first year's broom seemed to have suddenly acquired a mind of its own and was flying out of control several hundred feet above the earth. Whoever was on the broom had to be holding on tightly, since the room was bucking and shifting like a horse trying to throw its rider.

Harry soared past him and up into the sky, to save the child. Draco followed, but more slowly, he hung back, only going up trying to get a better view. Harry soared after the child with the determination he had put to the test as a Seeker. Draco watched with some admiration as he almost caught up with the child, reaching out to grab them.

Suddenly the broom turned, flipping over and sending its rider tumbling towards the ground. They were plummeting like a rock towards the earth. Whoever was falling was going to die if something didn't happen soon. Harry turned his broom, but he would never be able to catch up with them.

Without even thinking Draco flew upward racing towards the plummeting figure, he drew his wand and doing his best to aim it cast a quick levitation charm. The body slowed just enough for Draco to catch the child which turned out to be a little girl, without slamming into her too hard.

The little girl was crying and as soon as Draco pulled her out of the sky clung to him, shaking with fear. He paused his broom and looked down at her, one arm around her.

She looked up at him with grateful tear-filled eyes, half burying her face inside his robes and Draco could feel something pleasant warming up inside of him. He looked up as Harry pulled up along side of him. They stared at each other for a moment. Harry's eyes held an interesting mixture of surprise and disgust.

"Did I steal your thunder, Potter?" Draco said as he turned his broom towards the ground. Harry didn't say anything, but followed him down.

Madame Hooch had also taken to the sky and she was holding the errant broom in her hand. It was wriggling as if it were trying to escape. She thrust it towards one of the other Gryffindor who had come running. "Lock that one up in the shed!" She barked, "That's the same testy one that threw Oliver yesterday!" She dismounted her own broom and hurried up to Draco and Harry.

"Thank you both for your quick thinking." She reached for the little girl, but she seemed reluctant to leave the safety of Draco's arms. Draco also found himself oddly reluctant to let her go, but he carefully eased her towards Madame Hooch. "Especially you, Mr. Malfoy." The little girl finally allowed herself to be pulled from Draco's arms. Madame Hooch turned and addressed the young class. "Come children we will _all_ go to the Hospital Wing. Oliver you may start practice but make sure that broom is put away safely." She started to walk off the field, followed by the first year's some of whom were clustering close to her and some of the others were talking excitedly in small groups.

The remaining students stared at Draco who was still hovering next to Harry. Draco stared around, his eyes finally coming to rest on Harry's. The other boy was giving him a surprised and wide-eyed stare. He should've growled and flown straight through the assembled students with a sneer on his face. He could already hear them whispering.

He glared at Harry and jerked his broom up, over their heads and headed at full speed back towards the castle. It would only be a matter of time before word got around. He sighed and shook his head, wondering what excuse he was going to have to make up to explain everything that had just happened.

He dismounted the broom before he entered the castle. He hurried towards the Slytherin dorms, but was met shortly by Professor Snape.

"You feel well enough to fly, but not to attend meals or classes, Mr. Malfoy?" His voice startled Draco who stopped suddenly. "Madame Pomfrey was very put out when she returned to find you missing." The normally familiar and usually welcome face of the Potion's Master suddenly reminded him of his dream and he felt the blood drain from his face. As their eyes met, Snape raised one eyebrow, but didn't say anything for some time.

Draco recovered and wondered what he should say. "I'm terribly sorry, sir." Were the words that finally slipped out of his mouth, he struggled to think of the next sentence.

Snape looked a bit surprised. "I will recommend that you spend your two detentions in the library studying to make up the work that you've missed." He said slowly. "Your classmates were kind enough to write down most of your work and brought it to your room." His tone suggested that said classmates had been issued the order without an option.

Draco had expected something far worse than that and he nodded, doing his best to look somewhere between Snape's neck and the floor.

"You will report to the library after lunch and dinner tomorrow. After that we'll assess how much you've gotten done." He continued, staring hard at the top of Draco's head. "I'm also given to understand that you've become more heroic these past few days, Mr. Malfoy. Taking after Harry Potter?" He said the words as if they were about to make him sick.

Draco's head snapped up and for a moment he met Snape's eyes and they seemed to bore right through him. He could feel a blush starting to rise and he searched for some anger to defend himself, but he could find none. He tried to think quickly.

"I beg your pardon?!" Draco said, automatically affronted, he struggled for what to say next. "Do I look like…like that much of a git?" He said hotly. As soon as he said it he was cursing himself. Why couldn't he talk? Gads, this was frustrating.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest your return to your room and attempt to get a head start on your work. I will expect to see you both at breakfast and class tomorrow morning." He stepped to one side. "Run along."

Draco looked up at him for a moment, but snapped his mouth shut. "Yes, sir." He hurried past Snape and down towards the Slytherin dorms.

He entered the Common's room of his house and stalked past some of the other students who were clustered there. He paused for a moment meeting all their eyes with a cool glare, daring one of them talk. They stared at him in silence. Blaise stood up and opened his mouth to say something but apparently thought better of it and sat back down. He pushed through the short hall and up to his dorm. He entered the thin room and walked straight to his bed, intent of climbing in and closing the curtains.

"We brought your mail up for you, sir." Crabbe's voice's said from across the room where he and Goyle were sitting on a bed playing a game of cards. "And your work, Professor Snape told us too."

Draco stopped himself from saying thank you and just nodded. He looked at the small pile of papers on his bed and sat down, leafing through them quickly. He picked up a small box. His mother had sent him sweets again. A tiny smile managed to break on Draco's face. He opened the box and then the tin to see the usual assortment. Despite missing dinner he didn't feel very hungry and just ate one of them before closing it. He snorted through the next three sheets of paper, reading the notes of his missed assignments before he opened the letter.

_My son,_

_I have not received a report from you in some time. _

_I will be expecting one in full immediately._

_Your father, __Lucius_

Draco stared at the letter, cold fear sinking down into his stomach. He'd forgotten all about the reports that he was supposed to be sending. He scrambled for a pen and paper to write a response to the letter. He tried to stay calm to phrase the short letter as carefully as possible, finally coming to the conclusion that he should simply tell his father he was attempting to bring his grades up and had spent extra time studying. He sealed it and barked out an order to Crabbe and Goyle. They dropped their cards and taking the letter, hurried out the door.

Draco sat back on his bed and drew the curtains, enjoying the rare moment of total privacy. He didn't want to start his schoolwork, despite the upcoming detentions which he felt that he should've been plotting to avoid.

Why did he save that girl? He knew that if he had seen that just a few weeks ago he would've let her fall. A part of his mind tried to tell him that she was just a little girl. But she was a Gryffindor! The other side of his mind almost yelled. He shook his head, beginning to get a headache again. He reached above his head to where he had tossed the sheets of paper detailing his makeup work and started to read them. He was willing to trying anything to get his mind off this situation. He had the feeling that was slowly going mad.

After scrawling some notes on the papers he undressed and crawled into bed, doing his best not to listen to the argument going on inside of his head.

Draco was walking through a long hallway. It looked like a hallway at Hogwarts, but the walls were lined with portraits that he saw at home. Some of the faces were familiar and others were strange. He was following Professor McGonagall.

"Don't tarry, Mr. Malfoy." She said turning once to look at him, her beady eyes fixed on him for only a moment.

Draco didn't say anything, but followed after her, noticing that she seemed to float a few inches above the ground. They began to walk up a flight of stairs. He followed after until he stepped on the last step before the landing and his foot sunk in up to his ankle. As he tried to pull his foot out he placed the other down on the step and he sunk down on the step up to his knees.

"Bloody hell!" He swore. "Professor!" He yelled, attempting to get McGonagall's attention. She turned once briefly, her small eyes changing into those of a cat. She hissed and vanished into the darkness beyond the edge of the landing.

Draco reached for the railing and tried to pull himself up. He looked up and noticed Harry Potter sitting on the railing. He was dressed in his Quidditch uniform and was tossing the Snitch up and down with one hand. The tiny golden ball that would normally take flight the moment it was released was oddly dead in Harry's hand, it's tiny silver wings still and limp. He sneered at him, he didn't want to ask Potter for help and continued to try and escape on his own. As he tried to pull himself up but the stairs slowly continued to pull him down.

"Sinking deeper, Malfoy?" Harry said his green eyes glowing.

"What are talking about, Potter?" He growled, now sunk almost up to his thighs. "Stop gloating and give me a hand."

Harry shook his head and stood up on the railing. "Can't help you now, it's got you." He pointed down. Draco looked and the edges of the steps above and below him had become two rows of teeth. He dropped down suddenly with a short scream landing on a giant tongue. Draco reached for his wand, but he couldn't find it. "Accio wand!" He yelled but nothing happened. He looked up in time to see Harry throw the Snitch down towards him. Draco reached up and caught it just as the jaws of the beast snapped shut and he was pressed into the side of its throat. The Snitch glowed brightly in his hands.

Draco's eyes snapped open. He held his breath for a moment as he looked around. The heavy green curtains of his bed were blocking some of the light and he could hear the rooms other occupants moving around. He took several deep breaths before he tried to place his normal sneer on his face and open the curtains to get ready for the day.

A letter from his father arrived informing him that his renewed interest in schoolwork was refreshing and he would expect another report on one week's time. After breakfast he discovered that he had double potions with Gryffindor. He glared at his written schedule as if the fire in his eyes would burn the ink. He sat in his normal seat, alternating his attention between Professor Snape who seemed to be watching him more closely than usual and Harry who was sitting across the room. Some of the other Slytherins seemed to have changed their usual seats. Blaise was sitting closer to Draco. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting closer to Hermione than normal, having displaced Neville who had moved to the other side. Draco stared into his cauldron, trying to remember the ingredients for the potion that Snape was currently lecturing them about. He glanced up once and watched as Boyle tossed something into Hermione's cauldron when she wasn't looking. Several of the other Slytherins noticed and were now watching the bubbling pot intensely. Draco glanced up towards the front of the classroom. Snape had stopped talking and was eyeing Hermione's cauldron carefully, but then he turned back to the blackboard and began speaking again. He waved his wand and an explanation appeared on the board. Draco looked back and noticed the pot bubbling in a dangerous way. He wondered what Boyle had thrown in, but whatever it was the contents looked as if they were going to explode messily very soon.

Hermione was turned the other way, hissing answers to Neville so she hadn't noticed the change in her cauldron. She was pointing emphatically to something in the book that was in front of Neville and he was pointing, looking rather bewildered, to something else.

Draco stood up quickly, knocking over his stool and stalked across the room in a few steps. He could feel most of the eyes in the room focus on him as he grabbed Hermione's arm and yanked her roughly away from the bubbling pot, almost knocking her to the floor since he was pulling her off her stool. Harry and Ron were on their feet and Ron looked as if he was about to jump over the table. Hermione regained her feet and turned, her mouth opening to demand an explanation when the cauldron practically exploded. Liquid shot into the air with a whoosh and a roar, splattering down and creating smoking holes in the wooden table. Students in the blast radius dodged but papers melted as the liquid burned through to the table. Everyone stared at him.

"Thanks," Hermione said slowly, staring up at him in confusion. Draco looked down at her and then at the still steaming cauldron and finally he looked up and met Harry's eyes. Harry was staring at him.

"Watch your cauldron more carefully next time, Granger." Draco said with the best sneer that he could manage as he turned away and walked back towards his own seat. He whacked Goyle on his head as he passed. He righted his stool with a clang and sat down.

"I would normally deduct points for such a prank." Snape's voice made everyone's head whirl around even though he spoke no louder than normal. "Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle should thank Mr. Malfoy for saving said points for Slytherin." Snape stared hard at Draco who looked down at his cauldron. "As you can plainly see that particular prank could've had severe consequences." He picked up and moved what remained of an unoccupied stool that had almost been reduced to a pile of ashes.

"Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle." He continued, shifting his gaze away from Draco. "I shall expect to see you both after class so that we may discuss the obvious handicaps you seem to have regarding following simple directions." He walked closer to where they were sitting. "I do believe that when we began this class I asked your fellow students to refrain from childish pranks because the potions we are brewing today are particularly volatile." He stared at them. They both stared at the floor. "I assume you weren't so foolish to believe that those words didn't apply to you." He said with a sneer. His eyes swept over the rest of the class. "Please remove that smirk from you face, Mr. Zabini it does not make you look any less idiotic." He turned to the other side of the class. "And you would be wise to follow Mr. Malfoy's advice, Miss Granger and watch your cauldron more carefully." He gave her a long look and she nodded, keeping her eyes fixed somewhere below his face. When Snape turned away she turned and looked at Draco. He only met her eyes for a moment before he turned back to his cauldron.

"Now, if there are no further attempts at exploding this classroom, we will continue." Snape returned to his desk at the front of the room.


	3. Chapter 3: After thought

**Chapter Three: After thought**

Draco stormed through the hallways. At least his second class had gone normally. He had spent a good portion of it trying to figure out why he had bothered to pull Hermione away from the cauldron. She was a mudblood after all! The worst part was when he had done it he hadn't even thought about it, he'd just gotten up out of his seat as if it would've been the thing he'd always done. "I'm a Malfoy!" He told himself testily. "Malfoys do NOT save mudbloods!" More dismayed than angry he went to lunch. His table thankfully chose not to bring up the topic. Draco hoped it was because of the contemptuous sneer that he'd managed to get on his face.

He was almost done eating when he noticed that several of the people at his table were staring across the room. He turned and watched as the two Gryffindor Beaters, Fred and George Weasley made their way across the Great Hall towards the Slytherin table. Draco craned his neck to get a better view and noticed that there was a little girl in between them. He turned away quickly and continued to eat. It looked like the Gryffindor girl that he had saved yesterday.

"Excuse me?" Draco turned around slowly at the voice and came face to face with the two Beaters. Draco glared up at the twin red heads and they glared right back at him, cracking their knuckles dangerously. "I'm sorry," the voice came again and Draco looked down, the girl was looking up at him, slightly annoyed at being ignored the first time. She was holding her head high, trying to pretend that she wasn't nervous at being so close to a table full of Slytherins.

"I wanted to thank you, so I made this." She held up what looked like a handmade medallion about the size of his palm. The uneven circle dangled from a piece of yarn and featured a poorly drawn broom with stiff gold foil bristles enchanted so it looked as if it were flying. She held it up as if she wanted to put it around his neck.

He paused a moment as he wrestled with himself. The proper thing to do would've been to turn around and ignore the girl. The little voice that had been ever present agreed and added that he should slap her hand, knocking the hateful paper across the room. He stared at her, and without direction from his brain he leaned over so that she could slip it over his head.

She did so, tousling his hair in the process. He looked up at her and she smiled contentedly. "Thank you so very much!" She chirped as she turned on her heal and hurried her own table. The two Weasleys stared at Malfoy for a moment, confused that they weren't called upon to defend the first year.

Draco stared down at the medal, picking it up to get a better look. The broom stuttered as it flew across the patchy blue sky. Before he turned around he knew the eyes of the entire table were on him. He pulled it off and stuffed it into a pocket in his robe before he turned around.

"What do first years know?" He growled, glaring up and down the table, daring someone to say something. Blaise was grinning at him. "Something funny, Zabini?" He growled.

Blaise immediately lost the grin and looked away. Several of the Slytherins looked a bit more at ease and went back to eating. Draco glared into his plate; suddenly he was no longer hungry.

"I'm going absolutely mad." He thought. "Bloody Tuesdays."

Thankfully the only other conversation aimed in his direction was the announcement that there would be a Quidditch practice that night after dinner, following the Gryffindor practice.

"Think you can be there, Malfoy?" The captain called down the table.

"I'll be there." Draco growled, gathering his things and heading to the library to serve the first of his two detentions.

As he left the Great Hall he was confronted by Pansy. She was glaring at him with her arms crossed.

"Have you lost your mind, Draco?" She demanded as he tried to push past her.

"Sod off, Pansy." Draco said angrily. "I'm profoundly aware of the location of my mind." He tried to get past her again. "It happens to be three clouds away at the moment." Draco thought to himself, "Second left, can't miss it." Pansy was probably worried about Draco's current antics having some effect on her. It was bloody well going to affect her with a sock to the jaw if she didn't get out of his way.

Pansy didn't leave. "First, you saved Potter!"

"He was my only way out of the Forest." Draco snapped back finally pushing past her and into the hallway. "I was in no mood to die."

Pansy was hot on his heels. "Then," she continued undaunted. "You saved another Gryffindor!"

"She may have been a pureblood." Draco called over his shoulder. It was a lame excuse but he couldn't think of a better one at the moment.

"How do you know?" She demanded. "She's a Gryffindor! She gave you a medal! That you took, I might add!"

"She was being trailed by the Weasley Twins, who are the Beaters for their team!" Draco tried to lose her in a group of passing Ravenclaws, pushing through two girls who had been holding hands. "I enjoy having my skull not destroyed by bludgers thank you very much." He cut a corner sharply hoping that she would run into the wall.

Pansy wasn't giving up. "Then you go and save that Mudblood in potion's class!"

"Do you want to lose the House Cup?" He demanded. "You heard Snape!" He tuned to face her, causing her to have to back up to avoid slamming into him. "I'm trying to win us the House Cup, Pansy! Now go bother someone more on your level of intelligence!"

She glared at him, dark eyes narrowing. "I don't believe you! You don't try to win the house cup by saving Mudbloods! You're becoming a blood traitor!"

The words touched something inside him and the rage that he had lost bubbled up. He dropped the books he was carrying and drew his wand, taking up a dueling stance. "I will have you remember my family name." He hissed. "Now draw your wand!" His hand was shaking with rage. "Any one, even a Slytherin who _dares_ to call me that is going to feel the consequences!" When she didn't respond right away Draco took two steps towards her, gray eyes flashing fire. "Draw it!" He almost screamed.

Pansy just stood there staring at him her own face hot with anger. "Are you planning something?" She demanded.

"I don't think my plans are the business of someone who insults me." He growled, lowering his wand.

"I thought you must be planning something, but I wanted to make sure." She picked up his fallen books and handed them back to him. "You'll have to let me in on this plan."

Draco seethed as he snatched the books from her grasp. "I'd watch my language if I were you." He growled and stalked towards the library. He kept the scowl on his face as long as he could manage. If Pansy were confronting him about this that meant that everyone was talking about his sudden change in behavior. He cursed himself several times, making a note to try and act more normal. The last thing he needed was to lose face in front of his house. It was dangerous to fall in Slytherin.

The study period went excruciatingly slowly as did Draco's final class. The time in the library he spent under the watchful eye of the librarian and so he actually made progress on his missed work. Snape wasn't impressed but Draco hadn't expected him to be so he made his usual round of half-apologetic sarcastic comments and he was excused to go to Quidditch practice.

He flew across the green towards the Quidditch pitch. Most of the team had already assembled and the Gryffindors were landing and bundling up the equipment for the changing of hands. Madame Hooch was also there watching both teams with a wary eye.

"I'll have no horse play!" She said loudly. "Be civil or I won't hesitate to take house points and pitch privileges form both teams! Don't think that I don't see you! Secure those bludgers!"

Draco dismounted and walked the rest of the way. As he neared the field he noticed Potter coming towards him. The Boy Who Lived was looking annoyed and as he passed Draco lashed out his arm, slamming something hard into Draco's stomach.

Draco swore at him and grabbed a hold of the object ready to turn and throw it back at Potter's head. When he looked down to see what it was he noticed that Harry had pushed the Snitch into his hands. Draco stopped suddenly and turned around to stare at Harry's quickly retreating back. The dream flashed into his head. It was Harry! Potter had been sending him these nightmares! He clutched the Snitch so hard it's dug into his hand and the tiny wings flapped frantically against the back of his hand.

The practice ended when it was too dark to fly. Draco escaped as soon as he had returned the Snitch to its holder. He flew his broom in the direction of the castle, leaping off it as he got inside the doors. He began to search the halls for Harry Potter. He finally encountered him in the hall outside the library walking with his arm around Ron Weasley. Draco stalked up to them dropping his broom to grab Harry by the front of his robe and almost host him into the air.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Potter?" He growled. Several passing students cleared a circle around them.

"Malfoy? What? What the hell are you doing?" He struggled to get out of Draco's grip. "Put me down!" He demanded.

Ron grabbed Draco's hand to assist. "Let him go, Malfoy!"

Draco dropped him, calming his anger enough to draw his wand. "I want to know which spell you've been casting on me." He growled, standing close enough to Harry and keeping his voice low enough that he hopped only Harry and Ron would be able to hear him. He didn't want to advertise his weakness to the entire hall.

"What?" Harry straightened out his robes and glared at Draco. "What are you talking about?"

Draco knew that Harry Potter was famed for being a terrible liar and therefore the confused look on Harry's face was disturbing.

"What rubbish are you on about, Malfoy?" Ron was trying to push himself between them, only being held back by Harry's hand on his arm.

"Stay out of it, Weasley." Draco growled before he turned his attention back to Harry. "Don't play games with me, Potter."

"I think you hit your head again, Malfoy, because I have no idea what you're taking about." Harry said picking up Draco's broom and thrusting it at him.

Draco could tell from the bewildered and angry look on Harry's face that he wasn't lying and he snatched his broom away, scowling. His mind tried its best to work out that it wasn't Potter who had been trying to destroy is mind and that left several unsavory possibilities. Half of him wanted to pick Potter back up by his collar and haul him off and make him tell him who was doing all this. He continued to stare at him, glaring, but he found himself drawn to Harry's eyes. Although he knew that he should've had the last word with Harry he was too distressed to think of anything and he turned on his heel and stalked away leaving them both standing in the hall staring after him.

"What was that all about?" Ron wondered as Draco stormed off.

"I don't know." Harry admitted, watching the Slytherin depart. "I think something may be wrong though."

"Something's always wrong with Malicious Malfoy." Ron noted.

"I'm serious." Harry said. "He wouldn't think he was spelled for no reason. I'm going to keep my eye on him."

Ron turned and stared at the now empty hall way. "Suit yourself, Harry, I wouldn't waste my time. It's probably a trick."

Draco stormed into the Slytherin commons room and pushed his way past several other students before he stalked into the dorm and threw his broom down next to his bed.

"A letter just arrived for you, sir." Crabbe said carefully closing the window behind a retreating owl. He held out carefully and Draco snatched it out of his hand and tore it open.

_My son,_

_It has come to my attention that you have recently been taking it on yourself to become a hero. I'm sure that I do not need to remind you that like the emblem of our house, snakes do not seek out the light and remain hidden in the shadows, waiting until the time is right before they strike. You risk giving yourself away if you seek this light. I am confident that you will immediately correct your actions accordingly._

_Your father, __Lucius_

Draco sat down on his bed and yanked the curtains closed. He was too confused for his father's letter to have any real effect on him. "What does he think he's on about?" He growled as he tossed the letter down towards the foot of his bed. "Of course snakes seek out the sunlight. They're cold-blooded animals. They wouldn't be able to move if they didn't get warm. Shadows my arse." He told the thick green cloth. "Accio Quill." The quill wriggled its way through the curtains and into his hand. "Accio paper." The parchment had a little more difficulty finding its way through the curtains, but finally placed itself in Draco's outstretched hand.

Draco sat awake for sometime trying to write the report that he was sure his father was anxious to get. His mind kept wandering back to the medal the little girl had given him; it was now locked in his trunk. He wasn't sure why he wanted to keep it but something inside him wouldn't let him destroy it.

He lay back and put his hands over his eyes. He wasn't going to be able to explain anything to his father. If he were under a spell he should've been able to fight it. But if his father were watching him by means of the spell he was sure that he had already passed sentence on his son.

Draco wrote until it was too dark to see and then he folded the letter and sealed it. He tossed the letter onto the stand next to his bed and lay back closing his eyes. There were countless things he needed to be doing, studying for his upcoming exams for one, but he was exhausted for some reason. He closed his eyes for a moment and fell asleep.

Draco was standing in the darkness behind a row of people that he didn't recognize at first. He took a few steps forward, trying to see their faces. Dumbledore was standing at the far end of what looked like a dais surrounded by several more wizards and witches that Draco didn't recognize. McGonagall was standing only a few feet away from him with Snape to her left. Blaise and Pansy were standing at the far right of the dais, beyond Dumbledore. Draco looked down and kneeling on the floor, wrapped in ropes was his father. His hair was stained brown and red and in disarray. His clothes were the same, torn, ripped and stained. The calm smug look that Draco had always seen him with had vanished from his face and had been replaced with a cold angry sneer.

He opened his mouth to call, but found that no sound could come out, so he began to reach for his wand, and took another step forward, but someone grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

He whirled to face the person and found it was Harry Potter. His green eyes seemed to be glowing even though they were both in the shadows. Draco tried to shake off his arm, but found that he couldn't.

"Don't do it." Harry said in a hoarse whisper. "Stay here."

Draco glared and continued to try and pull himself from Harry's grip.

"Have you passed sentence?" Dumbledore's voice boomed from his end of the dais.

"We have found the Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, guilty." McGonagall spoke in an even and slightly bored tone.

"Then what sentence?" Dumbledore said.

"He shall spend the remainder of his days in Azkaban." Snape said with a sidelong glance at Lucius he turned and walked past Draco and Harry, apparently without seeing them and through a hidden door in the stone wall.

"Sentence has been passed." Dumbledore said slowly and turned around. He too, walked back and vanished into the darkness near the wall. The other wizards and witches followed his example, murmuring to themselves. Draco tried to run towards his father, but once again Harry pulled him back.

The room got cold and ice seemed to form on the walls. Dementors walked out of the shadows behind Lucius and swooped towards him like vultures descending on their prey.

"Let me go, Potter!" His voice had suddenly returned. He tried to pull his arm away.

Harry shook his head. His eyes glowed an unnatural shade of green. "It's too late now, they've got him."

Draco turned just in time to see the Dementors close around his father who screamed as one of them reached for him.

"Father!" Draco yelled.

Draco woke up tangled in his Quidditch cloak. He struggled to get out of it as he sat up in bed. He pulled the curtain and noted that no one else was awake yet. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. It seemed so obvious; it had to be Potter sending him the nightmares. Why else would it always be Harry holding him back, or leaving him to be devoured by stairs?

He stood up to check the time. He still had a few hours before breakfast. He sat back down on his bed and tried to think of a plan. He looked up when he thought he heard someone moving around. He blinked in the darkness. It had looked like the curtains on Blaise's bed had shifted, but it was impossible to tell. He ignored it and went back to thinking. If Blaise wanted to be up at early hours it wasn't his concern.

By the time breakfast came around Draco wasn't any more prepared. Part of him, for reasons that he couldn't fathom, didn't want to duel Harry Potter. That half of him didn't even want to insult Potter anymore and that revelation was rather disturbing. Harry Potter was his enemy, not his friend. He hung around with mud bloods and blood traitors. He didn't want anything to do with the Weasleys, especially Ron. He wanted nothing to do with Granger but then why had he saved her in potion's class? He thought long and hard through most of breakfast. He didn't like Granger, he didn't care for her company, but she was powerful, that he had to admit, but he'd rather cultivate an alliance and not a friendship. Ron Weasley had no attractive qualities other than being a pureblood, but he was a blood traitor so that left him out. So now, what about Harry Potter? He was a pureblood and Draco wasn't sure how he could survive living with his mother's sister who was a squib. It would've driven Draco mad. Of course, he wasn't sure if he were already going mad.

The bell for the first class startled him, but he hurried out of the Great Hall in time to catch Harry, as always shadowed by Hermione and Ron.

"Potter!" He called loud enough to make several of the other students stop.

Harry turned around. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I challenge you to a duel." Draco said, lips set in a thin line. "By the lake, after lunch. No seconds!" He glared at Ron and did his best not to let that strange other half of him take back the words. He knew Crabbe and Goyle, even if they weren't bright, would be quick to report such an incident. He had already lost enough ground; he wasn't going to lose anymore. Harry was the only person who could be responsible to for this.

"No seconds!?" Ron bellowed. "What are you – ?"

Harry looked weary at the challenge, but he nodded, cutting off Ron's angry words. "Alright, Malfoy. I'll be there." He turned and continued to his class.

Draco was dismayed to find that Harry was on time for the duel. He had half hoped that he would back out at the last minute, but there he was standing on the field. Draco wasn't sure how he had managed to leave his sidekicks behind, but there he was, standing alone on the field.

"What are the terms?" Harry said shaking his arms to roll his long sleeves back.

"First one to fall." Draco called back across the field. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Why was he scared? It was only a duel, there was a real chance that he could be hurt, but Potter wouldn't kill him. Why was he afraid? Was he afraid to hurt Potter? The thought set the two sides of his head warring again and he shifted position, doing his bet to drown them out. He bowed and raised his wand, waiting until Harry had done the same before throwing the first curse.

The spells flew furiously back and forth, singeing robes, making gouges in the grass and almost drenching them both when one nearly disrupted the lake. Every spell that flew Draco found himself holding his breath and holding back some of the better curses that he knew. He found himself unwilling to hurt Harry and the thought was distracting him. His head started ache again. In an effort to put a quick end to the duel and hopefully his growing headache Draco tried a simple moving spell to try and knock Harry off his feet. It was crude and Draco was glad that no one was around to see it.

The spell soared across the field. Harry tried to sidestep it, but the field of it was too large for him to escape. He staggered and although he managed to keep his feet his glasses were blown onto the ground. Harry remained off balance, but braced himself since he was sure that another spell would be on its way to knock him over. There was only silence.

Draco stood across the field, waiting. "Are you just going to stand there, Potter, or are you going to pick up your glasses?" He finally called, irritated that there was a delay. He just wanted this duel over with so he could take care of this blasted headache.

Harry moved slowly as if he were surprised by the simple direction. He bent and picked up his glasses. "Do you want to call it a draw?" Harry asked. "I don't think we're getting anywhere and we both have class soon. We don't want any of the teachers to catch us out here."

"We can finish it later." Draco said marveling that "Scared, Potter?" had gotten lost on the way to his lips. Draco knew that if the duel ended now he wouldn't continue it. The anger he had been feeling towards Harry had almost vanished entirely the moment that he had taken up his position across the field.

Harry walked across the field towards him, but instead of turning away, Draco held his ground. Harry walked up and extended his hand to Draco. "Good duel." He said still looking a bit surprised.

Draco's mind went into overdrive. His normal reaction would've been to sneer and say something clever about how he would pound Harry the next time that they dueled. He knew it; he could feel the words trying to arrange themselves.

Draco took his hand and shook it firmly, inwardly disbelieving that he had just done such a thing. "You still denying casting a spell on me?" Draco said, meaning to sneer, but not managing more than a dull and tired tone.

Harry still looked surprised. "No, I told you before I haven't been casting spells on you. Do you think someone put a spell on you?"

"I know someone did." Draco said, finally managing to release Harry's hand from his grip. He was beginning to feel almost giddy at Harry being so close and he had to remind himself repeatedly that Malfoys did not get giddy.

"Maybe you should talk to a teacher." Harry suggested, stepping to one side and inviting Draco to walk next to him.

Draco fell into step as they walked back towards the school. "I can take care of it myself." Draco said now wishing he'd never challenged Harry in the first place. "I don't need help."

"You've been acting a bit out of sorts lately." Harry noted when they were still a good distance from the massive doors. "Do you have any idea who cast it?"

Draco cursed himself. Was it that obvious? "I had assumed it was you, Potter, but I have a few other suspicions." He lied, ignoring Harry's first statement.

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't me."

"Yes, you said that already." He said almost managing a sneer and then before he could stop himself. "Thank you." He realized what he said too late. Turning away from Harry's startled face, he hurried towards the huge doors and the safety of his next class.

His escape didn't work since he found himself distracted all day by the thought of shaking Harry's hand. It troubled him. Why had he done it? He was trying to assume that he wanted to form a sort of alliance with Harry Potter for his own protection and to get use out of his power and the power of his friends, but he'd never wanted such a relationship before, preferring to handle everything in his own way. He tried to reason that he shook Harry's hand so that he could question him one last about the spell. He tried to reassure himself that he didn't actually want to shake Harry's hand. Before the class had ended his head was throbbing, luckily it was Professor Binn's class. He spent the class with his head on the desk.


	4. Chapter 4: Catching Shadows

**Chapter Four: Catching Shadows**

Draco had never been more relieved to be on Easter break than he was now. The chance to be at home, away from Harry Potter and the rest of Hogwarts. One week, seven glorious days of rest and enough time away from everyone to figure out what the hell his mind was trying to do to him.

The only tricky part was not mentioning anything to his father. His father was usually quick to pick up on small things, even strategic silence, especially strategic silence. He thought about his response to any of the dozens of questions that his mother or father were sure to ask. He finally came up with enough interesting excuses and flat out lies to carry him through the end of the week.

His parents were only interested in making sure that the rumors of his heroism were untrue. It didn't take much to convince them that they had been unfortunate accidents. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. His father urged him, once again, to at least make it appear that he was on better terms with Harry Potter since the rest of the wizarding world seemed to be infatuated with the boy. Given the circumstances Draco didn't think it was going to be a problem but he answered the suggestion with his usual sneer of contempt.

Draco entered his room with another headache. Over dinner his father had asked all the important questions and Draco had found that lying about Harry was making his head hurt. If this was the universe's attempt to give him a conscience he was determined to make sure that it failed. Of course, there was the time to be spent after dinner discussing Hogwarts and what was going on there and that took most of the rest of the night.

He got ready and flopped onto the large bed content to lose his headache into large fluffy pillows and warm, clean sheets.

Draco was standing in a familiar circular, stone room. The walls were solid and thick, but they all disappeared into shadow, leaving only a small space lit by a magical light with no immediately discernable source. Draco looked around trying to see into the shadows. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall shared a small dais in the center of the light. They were standing rigid, as if preparing for a drill. All around them were various witches and wizards along with Blaise and Pansy. The room was cold and Draco shivered, he took a step forward to try and see what was happening. In the center of the room, seated in a plain chair, wrapped in ropes, was his mother. Her hair was in disarray and her clothes were dirty and torn. Her head was bowed, her shoulders looked as if would be sagging if the ropes had allowed for that much movement.

"Mother!" Draco managed to get almost into the circle of light before a strong arm pulled him backwards and back into the shadows.

"Don't." It was Harry and his eyes were glowing. They glimmered like a cat's in the darkness. "You don't want to go out there."

"Let me go, Potter." Draco hissed. "I'm tired of this. I'm going to save my mother." He wasn't going to let these bastards do anything to hurt his mother.

Harry didn't let go of his arm. "If you go out there, you'll die." He said simply. "You've already stated your case, if you go out again…" He let his voice trail ominously.

"You've heard all the evidence and arguments." Dumbledore said evenly. "There have been no petitions for her, are there any who would come forward?" His tone suggested that this statement was only a mere formality. Draco tried to rush out, he wanted to speak, but Harry held him back, wrestling him almost to the ground.

"There are no arguments." McGonagall noted, never seeming to notice the scuffle.

"Yes, and considering that her own son condemned her, we were not expecting anymore." Dumbledore's voice was cold.

At those words Draco stopped struggling, his heart stopped in his chest. He had spoken against his mother? His arms and legs went limp and he fell to the floor. Harry's hands were still holding his arm, as if afraid that he would summon the energy to crawl forward. He had spoken against his mother? He stared dumbly towards the center of the room.

Narcissa looked up and stared around the room, her eyes finding their way through the crowd and settling on Draco. He found that he couldn't look away as she stared at him. Her eyes seemed to blame him for everything that was happening. Inside them was an emotion that he'd never seen aimed at him, his mother's eyes were full of hate. He wanted to scream that he was sorry. He wanted to charge forward and untie her, but his legs wouldn't obey him. As he watched her face changed into the plain white mask that the Death Eaters wore, on her exposed arm, her Dark Mark seemed to gleam in the light. The snake writhed through the skull and then slipped from her arm and onto the floor. It paused and twined at her feet as if trying to protect her from the assembled crowd, but none of them seemed to notice. The snake coiled around one of her legs and raised its head, staring in Draco's direction.

"What is the sentence?" Dumbledore's voice rang through the small room. Draco's head snapped up to focus his attention on the headmaster.

"She is spend the rest of her days in Azkaban." Snape droned and took McGonagall's arm. Together they walked from the room, vanishing into the shadows. Blaise performed a similar honor for Pansy and they disappeared with the rest of the crowd.

Draco managed to get to his feet and broke away from Harry's grip, charging out into circle of light. The room seemed to have turned to ice and he shivered as he tried to remove the ropes. The snake at Narcissa's feet hissed its warning.

Draco ignored it, tugging at the magical ropes that thwarted him every time he thought he'd found a way to untie them. The snake hissed again and then struck, sinking its fangs into his forearm. Draco yelped in pain and staggered backwards grabbing his arm. The snake didn't let go, it's red and black eyes gleamed dangerously.

"Why did you betray us, son?" His mother's voice was dull and defeated. Draco tried to speak but the snake's bite was too painful.

The Dementors appeared out of nowhere and advanced towards his mother. Harry rushed out and pulled Draco back towards the shadows.

"You shouldn't have done that." Harry said. "They've got you now." He motioned with his wand to Draco's forearm.

Draco fell and gripped the snake by the back of its head, but it's jaws seemed to gnaw deeper into his arm. It wrapped its body around his arm and slowly melted into it. He looked up as he heard his mother scream. The Dementors had closed in around her and she was struggling against the chair, but it was unsympathetic to her fate. He felt dizzy and couldn't get back to on his feet.

"Mother!" He gasped as the Dementors surrounded her. She screamed one final time as one of them bent over and delivered the kiss. Draco struggled to his feet and looked down at his arm. The snake seemed to have crawled under his skin, it was still wriggling slowly as it imbedded itself deeper. It burned and his whole body felt like it was on fire.

Harry took hold of his arm. "It's too late." He said the glow in his eyes flickered like a wand light slowly dying out.

Draco pulled his arm away and staggered towards the Dementors. He pulled out his wand, but they parted before he could cast. His mother was sitting limp in the chair, her head hung at an unnatural angle and her eyes were vacant.

"Mother?" He gripped her arms, his heart falling. "Mother?" He shook her unwilling to believe the obvious.

Narcissa rolled her head, tilting it sideways and then shifting her eyes to look up at him without seeing him. As he watched, she began to wither away, turning into a living skeleton.

Draco backed away, stumbling as the Dementors turned towards him. He felt someone behind him and tried to turn around, but they were holding his shoulders in a harsh grip. "You shouldn't of moved." Harry's voice was in his ear, hot breath spilled down his neck. Something fluttered against his hand. He cast a glance down the snitch was brushing against it. "They've got you." Suddenly he was pushed forward into the arms of the skeleton that was left of his mother. He screamed as the Dementors closed around him and his mother's skeletal hands closed around his neck.

Draco woke up sweating but he managed to stifle the scream. "Accio wand!" He almost shouted, the wand flew into his hand. "Lumos!" The wand light flickered adding ominous shadows to the dark room. He pointed it in the direction of several candles that spluttered to flame. He pulled up the sleeve of his nightshirt and stared down at his arm. There was no snake clinging to it but he thought he could feel it stinging. He rubbed his face trying to catch his breath and stop the fear that was making his stomach twist. He resisted the urge to run to his parents, even though he desperately wanted to know that they were both alright, especially his mother. He was no longer a child and they would not be pleased to be woken in the dead of night because their almost grown son was having nightmares. He shivered in his bed and slowly drew the blankets closer.

Suddenly the hairs rose on the back of his neck. He whirled around and stared into the darkness, his eyes were drawn to another source of light. The old mirror that hung on the wall next to his dresser was glowing faintly. Draco slowly got out of bed. He knew the mirror was magical, everything in the house was in some way, and this particular mirror was very old. It had been placed in his room years ago when his mother had suggested that he be given one to use for dressing. Sometimes it would give tips about wardrobe and hairstyle in a dull and stretched voice. He knew that he'd never seen it glow. He walked toward the mirror with his wand at the ready.

The mirror glowed softly and when he got close he noticed that his reflection was overlaid with a faint image of what looked like a ghost. It was wispy and indistinct. He pointed his wand and muttered a capture spell. The creature lashed around for a moment but Draco held onto the spell and it slowly stopped moving, trapped in the spell.

Once it had stopped thrashing Draco could study it more closely. It looked the kind of psychic vampires that Professor Trewlaney often warned them about. This kind attacked through mirrors and sometimes crystal balls. She had advised them all, on more than one occasion, to cover their scrying mirrors and crystals when they were done. He managed an amused smirk. He couldn't believe it, that crazy old witch had actually been right about something. Draco couldn't believe that any normal creature would bother to work its way through the protections on the Malfoy mansion unless someone had sent it. Draco hissed the words of a binding spell to hold it captive. He was going to discover who sent this creature and then they were going to pay.

His parents were surprised by his reaction to seeing them at breakfast that morning. He tried to temper it, unwilling to explain the nightmare. His father began to scold him, but his mother intervened.

"Lucius, it's alright for the boy to miss us." She patted his hand gently. "What is loyalty if not shown in love?"

Lucius relented. "It is still unwise for him to get into such a habit." His fork clinked across his plate. "His enemies will look for such a weakness."

Narcissa's smile said, "Yes dear, whatever you say." Without the need for words. "What allies do you have if not your family?" She said instead, sipping tea out of an ornate cup.

Lucius gave her a half-amused smile. "It's not worth arguing over now." He said, acknowledging his wife was right without ever saying it directly. "Just mind yourself." He said to Draco.

Draco nodded and pretended to concentrate on his eggs. He glanced up briefly to see that his mother was giving him a warm smile.

The rest of the conversation went calmly, although Draco found himself staring at their long sleeves which he knew hid a Dark Mark. He found himself wishing that there was some way he could convince them to renounce their dangerous alliance. He'd never questioned it before, but now he had the feeling that their choice of allies would be their downfall.

Draco spent the better part of his week vacation preparing the spells he would need. He needed to bespell it to tell him who had sent it and then he needed to send it back at the original caster. He took him several days before he was satisfied that it would hold. He wanted to make sure that whoever sent this creature to attack him was going to pay dearly.

Underage wizards weren't supposed to do magic when they were away from school but with the wards that existed around the Mansion they would have a hard time detecting his spells. His father had mostly enforced the rule himself, taking away Draco's enchanted quills to make sure he did his homework the hard way and forbidding him to use summoning spells. Both his parents were generally rather busy over the break and each day, with only a stern warning that his quills would be checked when they returned, his parents left him to his own devices. It would be easy to prepare his counter curse.

Only a day before his return to school he pointed his wand at the mirror, the prepared spell flowed off his lips, focusing the power and twining it around the sender of nightmares. The spell flickered around the mirror, slipping into the glass it wound smoky cords around the creature there. The creature finally appeared, a vague smoky image.

"Show me who sent you." He says in an commanding voice, flushed with his victory.

The smoke in the mirror struggled for a moment before swirling and revealing an image. Draco raised one eyebrow. The person shown in the hazy smoke was his fellow Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. He couldn't help but stare at the image there for a long moment. Slytherins were known for always trying to claw their way to the top, never caring for broken alliances along the way but Draco was having a hard time trying to figure out what threat he poised to Blaise other than simply existing. Draco didn't bother trying to figure out exactly what Blaise hoped to gain. He strengthened the spell holding the creature in his mirror and set about working out his revenge.

The easiest way to return the spell on its caster would simply be to fire off a bashing spell that would focusing the point on Blaise, but that was rather dull and easily traceable. If the spell was easily followed Blaise could easily send the creature back at him. There were several other ways to return the spell on its caster and Draco took his time choosing.

He finally decided to enchant a small hand held mirror to hold the creature and then to give that to Blaise. The spell would activate when he touched the mirror with bare skin and would turn the attacking creature back on Blaise. The small mirror was easy to find, and the spell took him most of a day and an entire night. Transferring the creature was the easiest part and almost anti-climactic as opposed to the preparation. He wrapped the mirror tightly in a black cloth and placed it under his dress robes in his trunk.

Draco found himself more than ready for his return to Hogwarts. His dreams were still strange, but at least they were no longer terrifying. He arrived at the school and quickly set about trying to find Blaise. He had thought about planting the mirror on his bed, but he couldn't be sure that Blaise would be the first one to touch it. Armed with a pair of fine white gloves he stalked the halls in search of Blaise. He finally found him, skirting around the first floor with an armload of books.

"What are you studying for, Zabini?" Draco said walking up to him.

Blaise jumped at the voice. "Oh, Malfoy, you startled me. Just some books on potions." He said looking a bit uneasy.

Draco nodded and put his hands into his pockets. He was attempting to shift the wrapping off the mirror without rustling his uniform too much. This had been the hardest part of the plan, trying to think of what to say to Blaise. "Have you been working on the Transfiguration homework?" Draco hadn't bothered with it, but Pansy helped him get it done on the train in exchange for some of the sweet biscuits that his mother had given him for the ride.

Blaise groaned. "No, sod it all. I don't really have anything to practice on."

Draco forced down a broad smile. Sometimes the universe just made it too easy. "You want to use one of the spare things I picked up?" He offered. "No sense losing House Points over a stupid project."

Blaise, to his credit, looked suspicious for a moment. Slytherins were not known for helping each other without some sort of give and take. "Why would you do that?"

"Because McGonagall is just waiting to dock points from us." Draco said smoothly. "Don't you remember what she said in class?" Draco relied on the fact that Blaise hardly ever paid any attention to anything the Transfiguration teacher ever said.

Blaise looked as if he were trying to remember and failing. Finally he said, "I won't be the only one who didn't get it done."

"Oh, that's fine then." Draco said evenly. "I'm sure the Ravenclaws in the class decided to blow off the assignment."

Blaise's face fell. "Damn, we just had to have that class with Ravenclaw." Now he looked worried.

Draco shrugged. "I'm only concerned with winning." He turned and started to walk away.

Blaise didn't call out to him, but caught up to him a moment later. "What do you want for it, Malfoy?" He growled.

Draco smirked and handed Blaise the mirror, taking a particular delight in watching as Blaise touched it with his bare hands. "I'm sure we can work something out later." He said smoothly.

Blaise stared at him suspiciously for a moment before he nodded slowly and walked down the corridor.

Draco smiled and decided that for once, he couldn't wait to go to bed.

That night after they had gone to bed Draco could hear Blaise tossing and turning. He smiled up at the emerald green canopy of his bed. He was finally done with all this nonsense! He was looking forward to his double potion's class where he would have a chance to regain any lost ground by being nasty to Harry again. A strange feeling crept over him and he the usual smile that should've crossed his face at the thought of being able to make Potter's life more miserable was oddly absent and he found himself frowning instead. He discovered, much to his dismay that he didn't want to make Potter's life miserable. He sat up and shook his head fiercely. It must've been the last remnants of that creature's attack on him. It had been latched onto him for a bit longer than a month. He reassured himself as he lay back down and tried to go to sleep. It wouldn't all heal itself in a few days, but in less than a week's time he would be better than ever.

Draco was standing on what looked to be the bleachers that stretched next to a Qudditch Pitch. Team colors fluttered all over and high above the seats around him. He looked up to see the two teams that were playing, but he only recognized one team, or he thought he did.

One team was wearing the emerald and silver of the Slytherin team, but he didn't recognize any of the players. The other team's robes were such a deep black that they looked like flying shadows and they flew as silently, their robes didn't seem to make any noise in the wind.

"Interesting game." A voice beside him said almost matter-of-factly.

Draco turned to ask if this person knew the names of the two teams. His mouth closed with a snap. He was standing next to Harry Potter. He opened his mouth after a moment to say something, but Harry stood up and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"They've got another one."

Draco looked up, one of the shadow players had flown his broom into a member of the other team who was madly trying to pull away, but the shadow creature had a strong grip on his arm. Draco was about to ask why they didn't call a foul when he noticed that the emerald's robes were slowly turning black. It was as if the shadow creature's hand had been full of ink and it was now staining the other robe. That's when Draco noticed that there seemed to be less than the official number of balls on the field. He could only see a deep crimson quaffle being tossed about by the remaining members of the emerald team.

Harry sighed. "They'll never win now." He paused and stared up at the players. "Oh, wait, they just might." He corrected himself. "They haven't got the Seeker yet." He pointed

Draco took a step closer to Harry and looked up, following Harry's finger. There was a small, pale, blond boy on a sleek broom racing through the other players. There was yell and another player turned black.

"They'll win if they can keep the Seeker safe." Harry noted. Draco turned to look at him. Harry's eyes started glowing. "If they catch you, it's over."

Draco woke up with a start. He dragged his hand across his face. Damnit! These dreams were supposed to be gone! He stared at the curtains, forest green in the darkness. He had half a mind to shake Blaise awake and demand an explanation, but the tiny whimpers coming from that direction let him now that his counter curse was still in place. He lay back down and tried to think. Potter had already denied hexing him and Potter was a terrible liar. Could there be another reason? He felt his head begin to ache again. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

The next morning wasn't any better. The dreams haunted him. Hadn't that boy, the one playing Seeker. Hadn't that been him? He fell asleep in Binn's class and the dreams all mixed themselves together in his mind. People from the Ministry were bursting into the Malfoy Mansion and dragging his parents away. There were often several red-haired men that Draco assumed were supposed to be Arthur Weasley. Dementors on brooms were flying fast, chasing him when he tried to save his parents. And Harry Potter with his glowing green eyes, trying to shout warnings at him as he threw the Golden Snitch.

Draco bolted upright in his chair, the monotone of Binn's voice bringing him slowly back to reality. No one except for Crabbe and Goyle noticed his sudden change of position. The two huge boys had been blocking him from view. Not that Professor Binn's would've noticed anyway, he was still droning on about inventions. Draco picked up his quill and pretended to scribble notes.

A painful thought had just occurred to him. What if all this doubt wasn't the product of a spell? He swallowed, his quill clutched tightly in his hand. It washed over him, making him shiver as if a bucket of ice had been emptied over his head. He glanced up, but no one was looking at him, most of the other students had fallen asleep at their desks. Professor Binns droned on, never looking up from the large tome that he was reading.

The thought of not having a mold to fit into made him uncomfortable. He'd always known his place, he'd always had a place, and he knew where he was supposed to go, and what he was going to do when he got there. What would his family think of him of he tried to break it? Would they even allow him to call himself a Malfoy? He tried to assure himself that his parents would be there for him no matter what happened, no matter what he did, but there was a nagging fear that ate at him. He just wasn't sure. His mind started to run wild. All this time he hadn't been fighting against specters, he'd been fighting against himself!

He wanted his own life; not the one that his father had hand picked for him. Whose fault was that? It had to be Potter! This whole mess had started wit the nightmares! He paused just as his resolve seemed to have strengthened itself once again. It hadn't been Potter who hand sent the nightmares. Blaise had been the one to send the creature after him.

He tried to go back to taking notes in an attempt to make his head stop spinning, lest it start aching again. It didn't work and something started to throb behind his eyes. What were his parents going to think about all this? He couldn't tell them. He couldn't tell them that he was having second thoughts about his future. He couldn't tell them that he'd rather be on Harry Potter's side, even if he still loathed the boy for his "better than thou" attitude. He wanted to see a way out, but he couldn't. He'd been brought up around loyalty to his family and the ultimate act of treachery was to betray one's bloodline, one's family. He couldn't leave his family.

By the time class was over his mind was swirling and his head hurt so much he could barely stand. Luckily if anyone noticed his legs trembling they probably assumed that his legs, like theirs, had fallen asleep during the course of the long class.

When class had ended he scoured the hallways for Harry. It didn't take him long to locate him, but when he began stalking forward to confront him he noticed that Harry wasn't smirking. Harry had spotted him and was giving him the usual: "Oh bugger, what do you want now, Malfoy?" look. He slowed and then stopped, staring over the heads of some first or second years who were bustling towards their next class. He could confront Harry and demand to finish the duel, but the words died before they could reach his mouth. He turned around and stalked towards his next class, pushing his way through a tapestry and tickling one of the doors so hard it tried to slam itself onto the hem of his robe. He was still just recovering from the effects of the creature. He had nothing to worry about, all this would pass soon.

It didn't pass as quickly as he hoped. One week later he found that he was still having the same arguments and the strange voice in his head, which he had early on termed his "better half" was louder than ever. He was slowly coming around to the realization that the voice wasn't in fact, his better half. His better half was the bit that wanted to stop fighting with everyone and simply try to figure out what he was going to do with his life. He struggled to act as normally as possible.

He was not immune to the stress of attempting to hold himself together. He snapped when Theodore Nott had made a thinly disguised remark about Draco's unusual behavior, including his rescue of the young Gryffindor girl. Draco had threatened to turn him into a slug and when Theodore had persisted, Draco, seething with barely contained anger, had attempted it. The result left Theodore covered with slime and sprouting long antennae. Professor McGonagall had been not been amused and Draco was to serve a detention. He supposed Professor McGonagall's decision to send him into the Forest with Hagrid was done to make him even more miserable. He found such work beneath his stature and made sure that everyone knew it. He was feeling a bit better, having complained loudly to Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest of his usual group, until he heard he was going to be serving detention with Harry Potter.

Draco spent a good deal of time cursing the universe in general before meeting an ecstatic Filtch and less then ecstatic Harry Potter in the entrance hall. They followed Filtch across the dark lawn. Filtch was leering in his usual way and telling them all the horrible things that were going to happen in the forest. Draco noticed that Harry was glaring at the dark trees with great annoyance. He wanted to say something, he wanted to bicker, he wanted to complain, but no words would oblige to come out of his mouth and so he stared at the trees of the forest in silence.

Draco half listened as Hagrid told them that something strange was happening deep in the Forest. Draco wasn't concerned, something strange was always happening in the Forbidden Forest, but he couldn't help and remember the strange wind that had knocked he and Harry out of the sky. He also didn't like the thought of what else might be lurking in the Forest, waiting for them. He wanted to query if any werewolves had been spotted, but rather than give Harry something to rib him about, he kept his mouth shut as they started walking up the path. He stared into the dark trees nervously. He thought he could hear footsteps just around them, but it was too dark to see and his wand light didn't penetrate far enough into thick brush. He swallowed and began to wonder whether it was worth a few hours of teasing from Harry was worth knowing if werewolves had been spotted.

They stepped into a moonlit clearing and Draco whirled at another sound. The moonlight cut through the canopy and glimmered on something white in the trees around the edge of their tiny clearing. Draco turned and stared, he knew that white gleam, and he knew the way the cloak swished. He would've bet his life that a Death Eater was watching them from the trees. His father hadn't told him about any Death Eaters in the Forest and his father was usually very prompt to give him a lot of information so that he could help in any way that he could. Both of his parents, but especially his father, had been very proud of his work with Rita Skeeter.

Draco should've immediately felt more comfortable but instead he could feel panic rushing through him. He tried to calm down, but he couldn't seem to assure himself that he wasn't in danger. The mask was turned away from him and looking towards Harry Potter. He saw it disappear into the trees and then reappear closer to Harry who was looking the other way as Hagrid walked forward to the other edge of the clearing.

Harry was standing close to him now and Draco found that he couldn't complain. Wonder Boy looked as nervous as he felt. There was a tiny whisper in the trees and then the sound of a spell flying on the wind. Draco whirled and backed up, the spell was aimed straight at Harry and would miss him, Draco, by only a few inches. He didn't think as he turned on his heel and fell into Harry, sending them both tumbling ungracefully to the forest floor. Harry swore at him but his words sputtered to a halt as the spell flew over their heads and crashed into the trees on the other side, it was followed by the heavy twang and thunk of Hagrid's crossbow. He didn't hear a strangled scream, which meant that Hagrid had missed, but he was sure the Death Eater wouldn't be staying around to try for another shot.

He pushed himself up to his knees. Harry was staring at him, surprise written clear on his face. He wanted to tell Harry that he had seen a Death Eater, but he didn't, he stood up and brushed the leaves off his robe before offering Harry a hand to his feet. He regretted the action almost immediately, but he didn't retract his hand. Harry accepted the gesture and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Did ya' see what cast it?" Hagrid asked coming over to see if they were both ok.

When Harry shook his head Draco followed suit. "I just heard it." He muttered. "It was too dark, I didn't see anything."

Hagrid turned and started to walk towards the shadows. "There's a wizard here." He growled in a low voice. "No wonder there's been all that strange magic." He vanished into the darkness.

"Malfoy?" Harry began. They were standing close together more out of fear than anything else.

"Don't say anything, Potter, unless you want me to be ill." He growled, looking into the darkness the cold panic making hard knots in his stomach. That Death Eater would be quick to make report that Draco had saved Harry Potter's life. The attack didn't make much sense though. He knew from his father that the Dark Lord had marked Harry for his own and no one else was to kill him. That meant that the Death Eater could've been sent to capture Harry. Draco searched the woods again. He didn't hear the distinct sound of someone disapperating, but this servant would be quick to report this to his master.

Harry must've noticed the nervous look on his face. "You must've seen them!"

"No," Draco lied. "I only heard the spell." He started to look around for something to punch.

"Why didn't you let it hit me?" Harry pressed trying to put himself back into Draco's line of sight.

"I didn't want to have to carry your body back to the castle." Draco growled, eyeing a nearby tree and contemplating banging his head against it. He could feel Harry staring at him. He had always enjoyed tormenting Potter and had rarely been at a loss for a comeback. He had enjoyed knowing more than Potter on several occasions and had flung that into Harry's face at every opportunity. He had always striven to be better than Harry in anything he could and had managed to do so in Potions. At least, he thought he had, he was never sure how much of his exceptional grades he owed not to his own skill, but to Professor Snape's favoritism. He didn't like not knowing that was going on, and he liked less the fact that he could feel himself blushing. More distasteful, than even that was the thought that he was beginning to feel more friendly towards Harry. _All those times you bothered him_. A voice seemed to pick up in his mind. _Are you sure it wasn't for another reason?_

They left the woods late and Hagrid escorted them all back to the castle. Draco kept his eyes fixed ahead of him, but out of the corners he could see Harry's bright green eyes almost glowing in the darkness. He wished he could just start running and keep going until he could hide from everything. He was dreading what his father was going to say when he found out, but why hadn't he known that the Death Eater was there? Why hadn't he been told? It was usually his job to make sure that their whereabouts were unknown or to smuggle food to them.

He walked to the dungeons and through the empty common room. His head was aching again. He'd just saved Potter's life _again_ and once more he'd acted without pause or thought.

"What's happening to me?" He whimpered into the darkness, but the voice in his head was already speaking up.

_"You're living your own life."_


	5. Chapter 5: Pulled into Shadows

**Chapter Five: Pulled into Shadows**

He had never been so relieved and so frightened to go home for summer break. His father had written no letters indicating that he knew his latest transgression. Indeed, when his parents appeared at King's Cross Station his mother fussed over him as his trunk was hauled way towards their port key. He was a bit nervous to see his father in the station. His father rarely liked to come this close to muggles, but he didn't give Draco a disapproving or warning look. He merely glowered at anyone who dared to walk too close to him.

The first month was a paradise of not worrying about much of anything. He scowled at the orders to do his homework over the holiday and generally acted impossible until it was almost too late to beg for forgiveness, in short he was back to normal. But as the time wore on he realized more and more that he didn't want any part in the dark arts. He was torn between feeling normal and feeling as if he were trying to play a role in a strange production that he didn't very much like. He tried to remain in his room whenever the marks on his parents' arms burned. Whenever they left to obey the call to their lord his dreams turned into nightmares and always with his green eyes glowing, Harry Potter was in them.

One morning he went down to breakfast to find his parents waiting for him. It wasn't unusual that they were eating before he arrived, but he hurried to take his seat anyway. There seemed to be a kind of expectancy in the air.

"The Dark Lord has called us to him today." His father began. His mother was smiling at him, her powder blue robe fluttering as she poured milk into her tea.

Draco nodded slowly trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He expected to hear instructions for getting work done and practicing certain curses. He wondered if he could practice apperating around the house while they were gone. His father had been teaching him, but warned him sternly never to do it outside the house. Draco knew there would be grave consequences for him if he were expelled and so for once he obeyed without question. The Manor was set far away enough from Muggles that Draco wouldn't have been noticed unless he started apperating into the village below, but the Ministry had grown very strict recently.

"Tonight you'll be coming with us." His father continued with a hint of pride in his voice. His silverware clinked across his plate.

Draco almost spat out what he was eating, but managed to swallow it with a sputtering cough. He looked up into his parent's slightly concerned faces. "Going with you?" He managed not to stammer but he suddenly felt very cold. He had hoped, somehow, that his parents would've forgotten that promise. Formally he had been looking forward to this day; the day when he could prove his loyalty to who he had once thought was the most powerful wizard in the world. Now, those words had the same effect as his father telling him that he was going to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. Cold dread was spreading over him making knots in his stomach.

"Yes." His mother took his stammers for those of surprise and delight. She reached over and patted his arm. "You're old enough now. Your father wanted to wait until you were seventeen."

His father chuckled grimly over his toast in reply.

Draco stared down at his plate an odd lump forming in his stomach. He looked up at them and tried to smirk. "I'm going to…"

"Yes." His father interrupted looking down the table. "We have spoken about this." His tone was verging on suspicious.

Draco nodded enthusiastically. "Yes." He said quickly. "I just hadn't expected it to be so soon. You had already said, father," he said smoothly, "that I would have to wait until I was of age." He swallowed another bite of his breakfast without really tasting it. What should have been a rush of pride was settling in as a cold, painful lump at the bottom of his stomach, which was twisting as if he were eating eels. He did his very best to twist his face into an excited grin. "When are we leaving?" He tried to make his voice sound eager.

"I have arranged to bring you tonight. Your mother will return for you." His father said with a tiny smile.

"We'll be going by broom." His mother added with distaste in her voice. "I know we've been teaching you to Apperate, but the Ministry will be trying to track any unusual magic, especially you apperating without a license." She sniffed disdainfully. "I'm afraid there's nothing to be done about it."

"Why don't we use a port key?" Draco asked, trying to bring his face back to normal and to place his voice into disdainful drawl. "We don't want to arrive windblown." He had hoped that his bluff would be enough to keep his father's intense eyes off of him for a little while.

It seemed to work his mother murmured something and his father shook his head. "Although they deny that anything is happening, the Ministry has been very jumpy lately about underage magic. No, traveling by brooms with a disillusion charm should be the safest way."

"Won't they track you when you Apperate?" He was trying to work out a way that he could convince his father that they shouldn't go at all. He was drawing a blank, since any disillusionment charm that his father or his mother cast would be strong enough to fool very powerful wizards.

"Your father and I are legally allowed to Apperate." His mother said, with a touch of annoyance in her voice. "The Ministry is coming down hard on _underage_ magic." She said sternly, "And the wards on this house won't hide you if you disapperate to return home."

Draco opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again quickly. His mind began to whirl with other ways he could escape and he could barely listen as his parents spoke about what cloak and robe to wear. His mother wasn't a good flyer, and perhaps he could say that he lost her and return home?

He went over similar plans in his head all day. He even attempted to forget the plans and take back his old pride a few times, but he always failed, unable to convince himself that this was indeed his life long dream. He would be able to stick it to Harry Potter better than before, and it would be fantastic. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to betray Harry to the Death Eaters. A few years ago, it had all seemed so simple, he had been dreaming of this day and now that it had dawned he was terrified.

It was that fear that kept him almost paralyzed in his room all day. He couldn't betray his parents. He had always been loyal to them and to his family's name. He wouldn't be allowed to keep that name if he ran away from the Dark Lord. What would his father say if his son ran away from the future that he had so thoughtfully picked out for him? He barely even heard the house-elf when it came to report that his mother had returned and was waiting for him downstairs. He stared down at the tiny creature who twisted its ears nervously and repeated the message. Draco nodded dumbly and slipped on the black robes and cape. He pulled the hood over his head and shouldered his broom as he walked down the stairs, his mind working frantically for a way out.

He smiled at his mother as she fussed over him and handed a white mask. He pulled it on and followed her out the back door into the yard. He was grateful that she couldn't see his face in the darkness because he was sure his happy smirk had vanished. She tapped him on the head with her wand and Draco shivered as the spell ran down his face and back like cold water. He shivered and resisted the urge to wipe his face as he mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground, following his mother up in the dark sky.

The sky was dark because there was no moon and the clouds allowing precious little starlight through. The air was cold at this height and it stung his hands until they felt like they were frozen to the broom handle. He suddenly wished he had remembered to wear his gloves. His mother was keeping a steady course, although she veered every now and then to avoid larger clumps of lights and she was flying very fast. Draco had never known his mother to set anything other than a snail's pace when she flew on a broom, when she flew at all, but now she was flying as fast as her old broom could carry her. It wasn't hard to keep up, Draco's broom was a few years old, but it was still fast, after the Firebolt it was probably the fastest. He found it almost difficult to hold himself back and stay behind her.

He wanted to veer his broom or lose his mother in the clouds but something kept him from doing that, some feeling was preventing him from attempting to lose her. He watched for landmarks to try and see where they were going but it was next to impossible thanks to the cloudy moonless sky. They flew in silence for what felt like an hour before they began to dip down below the clouds. Draco watched as high trees appeared underneath them. His heart sank as they entered the trees and flew steadily towards an old cemetery.

They landed on the edges of the stone pocked field. Draco swallowed, trying to clear his mind of fear as his mother fussed over him in silence. The Dark Lord would know what he was thinking, he had heard his parents speak about his powers, especially the ones that he used to look through their minds. He held himself straight as he walked through the decaying headstones towards a ring of black figures whose white masks managed to glow faintly. His mother stopped next to a figure that he was sure was his father but gestured with one hand that he should continue forward. Draco didn't look at the figures surrounding him. He knew that the people here knew him but he couldn't identify anyone because of the masks and hoods they all wore.

His legs were shaking, but he managed to stay upright as he approached a tall figure with glowing red eyes. As he got closer, Draco managed to make out a snake like head with glowing eyes and a flat slit for a nose. It took all the control he could muster not to scream and run away.

"Draco Malfoy." The snake creature hissed. It wasn't a question, the man knew as sure as if Draco had introduced himself. "Scared." It sniffed the air and grinned.

Draco nodded and pulled all the pride he had in himself and his name together and tried to stand tall. He needed to uphold his family name and fulfill his duty to that name. He told himself that it didn't matter what he wanted, only what his family wanted for him. This weak argument didn't silence the tiny voice in his head but it kept is legs from shaking.

"Good." It hissed again, red eyes boring into Draco's. He wanted to look away but he didn't flinch.

He couldn't listen as the Dark Lord spoke. The words he had longed to listen to for years now didn't ring true inside of him. In his dreams this had always been a wonderful moment with his heart swelling with pride with every word that the Dark Lord spoke but now every word was like an ice spear and his heart sank further with every one that struck his ears. It slowly became clear to him that all these Death Eaters; all these people he had idolized were fools. Fools who were carrying out one insane man's revenge against his dead father. He barely heard the direction to hold out his arm as two figures suddenly flanked him. He held it out and his long sleeve fell away.

There was a shuffle in the cloaked figures behind him as if wind had rustled long grass. The two Death Eaters that had flanked him stepped back again and he was alone with the Dark Lord. His arm didn't shake, even as the Dark Lord's wand glowed a sickly green in the darkness. He couldn't take his eyes off of it as it lowered towards his forearm. He didn't feel anything at first but he could smell burning flesh. The head of a hissing snake appeared on his arm. Slowly, the shape of a skull began to form above it and the wand moved a bit, aiming higher. The wand flared brighter, illuminating the horrible grinning face. Draco's eyes widened at the horrific sight and suddenly pain flared bright sending bright stars flashing in front of his eyes. His arm felt as if it were on fire. He screamed as the fear he had been trying to quench and hold back roared to the surface and overwhelmed him. He staggered backwards, breaking through the cloaked figures and then broke into a run, his heart hammering in his ears. He could hear yelling and hastily spoken curses but he couldn't stop himself.

"Accio Nimbus!" He heard himself yell as bright red spells flared past him. He mounted his broom in mid stride and soared straight up into the air. He flew straight into the clouds, soaked through to the bone in a second as he pushed his broom at full speed.

Voldemort seemed unaffected by the sudden outburst, while Death Eaters scrambled and fired spells after the retreating child; he simply watched the black shape with narrowed red eyes. He turned calmly to Lucius who had drawn his wand but remained at his side. "The boy lost his nerve as I suspected he would." He waved one hand dissmissively as the man began to bow and beg forgiveness. "It is not your fault that his blood turned out so weak. No matter, even the purest blood must be thinned. Kill him, Lucius." He said as easily as if he had just asked someone to hand him his cloak. "And prove the strength of _your_ loyalty."

"As you command, my Lord." Lucius said and backed a way, waving to another Death Eater to join him. They disappeared with a loud crack.

Draco was soaked through to the skin and shivering. Fear kept him awake and he didn't even bother to check the direction of his flight. His mind was too busy whirling with the consequences of his actions. Every Death Eater under Lord Voldemort's command was certainty now under orders to kill him. He knew he couldn't return to his parent's home. He couldn't bear to face his them. His arm was burning even through the cold, wet robes that were plastered to it. He began to wonder how long it would take him to die if he just let go of his broom and fell. Neville Longbottom had fallen twenty feet from his broom and survived with only a broken wrist and when he had been learning to fly he'd fallen far several times and survived with only minor injuries. He wondered how high he was; perhaps since he was as high as the clouds the fall would kill him.

He shook his head, clearing the wet hair from his eyes. He didn't want to die, it was true, that at the moment he didn't much feel like being alive, but he didn't want to die. He continued to fly only out of his fear to land. The Death Eaters couldn't Apperate into the sky to catch him, and as long as he stayed high enough to avoid spells he would be safe.

The dark sky rumbled ominously as he flew and before long a downpour had reduced visibility to the point that he could barely see past the end of his broom. If any part of him had been dry after his escape through the clouds the downpour soaked it through.

He began to consider landing for the night. He was shivering so badly that it was hard to stay on his broom and his hands were so cold he could barely even feel them anymore. He had just dipped under the clouds when some winged white thing brushed past him, banking high and then swooping down before leveling off and soaring into the night. Draco turned to follow it automatically. He got closer and noticed it was an owl and it there was a letter tied to its leg. He wasn't sure he wanted to follow a post owl to its destination. This particular post owl looked like the owl that Harry Potter owned and the last place Draco wanted to end up was at Harry Potter's summer residence.

He sped up a little as he reasoned with himself. He had no where else to go and if he had any luck the owl would be on its way to the Hogsmede or Diagon Alley post office. If that were the case he could easily get a room at an inn and wait out his time there until school started. He wasn't sure what he was going to do after that but right now the only thing on his mind was someplace dry and warm to sleep and something to eat. The Death Eaters and his parents could wait for the morning.

The owl dipped still lower and Draco could see muggle houses and streets below them through the rain. He didn't worry or care if someone saw him. He was wearing black and the rain was falling so thickly he could barely see anything and he doubted very much that anyone on the ground would be able to see him or even try to look up into the rain. He was beginning to worry because Hogsmede wasn't near any muggle cities. It was, as far as he knew, in Scotland and he appeared to still be in England, but he calmed himself, Diagon Alley was in London he could be near there. He watched the owl as it swooped still lower through trees and brushed the roofs of houses. Draco followed, keeping a bit higher, skimming chimneys in an effort not to lose it. The owl would land at some wizard's house and deliver the message and then he could find out where he was and once he knew that, he reasoned, he could deduce the direction to Diagon Alley or Hogsmede. Diagon Alley seemed to be the best place to head first, as that was reachable, in all probability, in a few hours and Hogsmede was an entire day's trip by the train. He might be able to reach it in less time flying as fast as he could on his broom, but he had no idea how to get to Hogsmede in the first place.

He snapped out of his thoughts as the owl suddenly banked downwards and flew into one of the houses through an open second floor window. Draco followed very slowly, circling the house once and staring at the window. He tried to decide what to say the wizards who lived there. He wondered if he could beg or buy the use of some Floo powder and simply use the Floo network to get to Diagon Alley. It seemed sound enough to him and he flew down to hover at the window. If he could see to whom the owl had delivered its message too he might know the family and then it would be easy to pretend that he had come for a visit and then gotten lost in the rain. If he didn't know them he could say he had seen the owl and followed it because the rain had thrown him off course.

His stomach twisted and he wished again that he _had_ elected to fall from his broom to his death. He was looking through the window at Harry Potter. He was about to fly back into the night when Harry turned and spotted him. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry dove for his wand. Draco didn't have the energy or the inclination to get his, if Harry wanted to kill him that was just fine. It would save the Dark Lord a lot of trouble. Draco didn't flinch at the wand that was now aimed at his face. He continued to stare at Harry, hoping at least to make the best of terrible situation.

"Can I at least come inside?" He asked carefully. The rain was still falling thickly and Draco shivered.

"Malfoy?" Harry's eyes had widened with shock but he did not lower his wand. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"If I told you…" Draco said, beginning to feel the exhaustion that adrenaline had made him ignore. He gripped his broom tighter so he wouldn't fall. "You wouldn't believe me."

Harry was staring at him suspiciously and Draco couldn't blame him. If Harry had shown up at his window in a rainstorm he probably would've blasted him without a second thought. And if he hadn't blasted him, he would've made sure that his stay was as miserable as possible.

"Try me." Harry muttered, eyes narrowing as his grip on the wand tightened.

Draco slumped a bit on his broom. "I'm running from Death Eaters who are probably out trying to kill me." He sneezed the last words. He was probably coming down with a cold from the rain.

Harry lowered his wand a little. It appeared that he hadn't been expecting that answer. "Death Eaters?" He asked incredulously.

Draco sighed. "Can I come in and explain?" He asked in an exasperated voice. "I'm sure _you_ want me to catch my death of cold and _they_ wouldn't mind a bit, but I'd rather not give the rudding bastards the satisfaction."

Harry didn't answer but stepped to one side and lowered his wand. Draco ducked his head, laying low on his broom and urged it slowly forward. He drifted through the window and slipped off, stumbling as he tried to stand. His legs were numb from the cold and ached at the sudden change of position. He fell to his knees almost immediately, the broom floating slowly to the ground beside him. The room was so much warmer than the outside that his face felt too warm almost at once and he sniffed loudly.

"You're soaked." Harry said in a disgusted voice.

"Yes." Draco said, some of his disdainful drawl managing to creep its way into his. "Brilliant observation, Potter. It's raining or didn't you notice?" He shrugged off his cloak and it fell into a soggy mass behind him, squelching at it hit the floor. He was sure he looked as miserable as he felt. He wondered where to start his explanation and just how much he wanted to tell Harry. He'd saved Harry's life twice now and he knew that put Harry in his debt. He shook his head and then held it in his hands. He was getting a headache again and the shock of the evening was beginning to wear off, his arm burned as if it were on fire, even encased in the cold, wet cloth of his robe.

Harry sighed and went to his wardrobe. He dug through some drawers before he returned with a rather large pair of jeans and an equally large sweatshirt. "We'll have to put your clothes someplace to dry out, I can sneak them into the bathroom, but we'll have to get them out before my Aunt and Uncle see them." He wasn't keen on getting caught by them with another wizard in the house but Draco had saved his life twice. Even if he didn't know Draco's reasons, he owed him the decency of dry clothes.

Draco looked up, startled at the idea that Harry was going to do him a favor. He took the clothing Harry offered and when Harry obligingly turned his back, he changed. The clothes were large enough to fit two of him inside but he didn't care, they were dry. In any other situation Draco would have frowned in disgust and refused the clothes, his pride keeping him soaking wet until something could be done about it. Right now through, warm dry clothes seemed like a paradise and he put them on gratefully but he only rolled the long sleeves of the sweatshirt to his wrists, unwilling to even look at the mark that was still burning on his arm.

He managed to stand on his own and took his sodden clothes and did his best to wring some of the water out of them. He leaned out the window just far enough not to lose the protection of the tiny overhang of the roof as he twisted them weakly in his hands.

When Harry left to take his clothes to the bathroom, Draco looked around the room. The white owl was sitting on top of its cage, blinking lazily at him. The room was small. Draco was standing in one of the few patches of bare floor between bed and desk. The shelves along the other wall were packed with old books and broken toys. An old battered wardrobe was wedged in a corner and was sitting partly open and Harry's school trunk sat open at the end of his bed. Draco sank down into the bed and brushed the threadbare quilt with one hand. In any other situation this room would have been a treasure trove of insults to throw at Potter but now he was too exhausted to even bother trying to think of some. He wanted nothing more than to flop down onto the bed and go to sleep.

Harry reappeared several moments later and handed him a small towel. "We didn't wake my Aunt and Uncle." He said, now whispering. "But keep your voice down, I don't know what they'll say if they find you here." He gave Draco a long and appraising look. "Now, explain." He sat down on the bed, near the head, some distance from Draco.

Draco concentrated on the coverlet for awhile and vigorously dried his hair before he spoke. He told Harry, in brief, about his meeting with the Dark Lord and his subsequent flight. When he was finished, Harry was staring at him open mouthed.

"You've got the mark on your arm?" He asked, his voice slightly impressed but mostly incredulous.

Draco considered Harry for a moment and then slowly rolled up the sleeve on his left arm. He looked down at the mark for the first time since his escape. His arm was red and swollen around the burn which was blurred a bit. The snake and lower jaw of the skull were a bright, distinct and angry red, everything else was a faded, blurry, reddish outline almost invisible under the swelling. Harry inhaled sharply and stared. Draco wondered if the Dark Lord could track him through the mark, it had been made by magic after all.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked not looking away from Draco's arm.

Draco judged by the wide-eyed look Harry was giving him that he had expected this whole thing to be a clever ruse and was shocked to discover that Draco had been telling the truth. Draco stared at him dumbly for some time before he could manage to get his brain around an answer.

"Sleeping and eating would be on the top of my list." He said without any of his usual sarcasm. He wasn't sure he trusted Potter enough to tell him his plans, but then again, he had already shown him the Dark Mark. Harry could just as easily send a letter to the Ministry of Magic informing them that a Death Eater was in his bedroom. "Why? Are you going to turn me in?"

Harry sat back and looked at him disdainfully. "No," he snorted, "Why would I do that? Who would believe me? Your father…"

Draco cut him off with a tired wave. "My father will probably kill me for what I did." He said dismissivly. "That's why I ran away, Potter."

"He's your father!" Harry countered angrily.

"He's a Death Eater." Draco said without meaning too. He regretted his words; but Harry had been present at a Death Eater meeting already. The Dark Lord always addressed his followers by name, so Harry was probably well aware that his father was a Death Eater.

"What about your mother then?" Harry asked, undaunted. "You can get a message to her, she'll help you.

"My mother is also a Death Eater." Draco muttered, doing his best to keep the dismay out of his voice. He knew that she would be very disappointed with him and the thought troubled him. He scoffed at Harry's surprised expression. "You expect that married to my father she wouldn't be?" He asked. "She's from the House of Black, of course she's a Death Eater, Potter. She has the same zeal for purity that they all have or had, they're all dead now, I suppose."

Harry closed his mouth with a snap and stared at Draco. "You can't go back?" He said finally, deciding not to correct Draco and remind him that Sirius was still alive.

Draco's eyes were beginning to close and even the pain in his arm couldn't keep him awake. He rolled his sleeve down hissing in pain as the cloth brushed over the mark and managed to raise his head to speak. "No, I can't." His words were punctuated with a huge yawn. He stared down at the coverlet again and before he could stop himself he slipped sideways, curled into a ball and fell asleep.

Harry was about to speak again but stopped when he noticed Draco leaning to one side. He stared in mild surprise as Draco fell asleep at the foot of his bed. He was the perfect source of information. Draco had to know something about the Dark Lord and his plans. He wanted to shake him awake and demand the news that he had been waiting for all summer but judging by the speed at which Draco fell asleep, waking him up now would do little good and may even have been impossible. He would drill Malfoy when he woke up the next morning. He set his alarm clock extra early so he could get up and retrieve the robes from the bathroom.

Draco dreamt about being chased by a snake through a house with so many corridors and stairways it reminded him of Hogwarts. Except the walls were bare and the most of the doors were locked or sealed shut. He found himself running through the endless halls tugging at doors and begging them to open.

He woke with a little start and sat up quickly, taking in the unfamiliar room with wide eyes for several heart-racing seconds until he remembered where he was and why he was there. He took a deep breath and looked around one more time. The clock on the small table at the bedside read "1:30." Draco sat up a little straighter and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it out. He stood up shakily as the memories of last night came rushing back and threatened to overwhelm him.

He was at Harry Potter's house after having fled from the Dark Lord. He rolled up his sleeve. The swelling seemed to have gotten a bit worse without treatment; it burned and ached when the sweatshirt passed over it. The snake and lower jaw of the skull were still plainly visible. He tugged to sleeve down, ignoring the pain as he got to his feet. He had noticed his robes draped over the old wardrobe and he searched through the pockets to find his wand. He was mildly surprised to find that his money pouch was still in one of the pockets. He thought Potter would've taken it, after all that's what he would've done. The robes were still damp and he spread them out as best he could and he stuffed his wand in his pocket. He walked to the door and opened it carefully. Harry Potter lived with muggles and as much as it pained him, it wouldn't be a good idea to flaunt his magical ability. It would've been so easy to blast the muggles away and deliver Harry Potter straight to Lord Voldemort. Yes, that would solve all his troubles…surely they would forgive him his moment of weakness if he delivered Harry Potter! The rumbling of his stomach reminded him that at the moment the Dark Lord was some distance away and he was here and very, very hungry. A cold knot of disgust, fear, and resentment wrapped around his stomach. He suspected that he should've gotten used to the fact that he didn't want any harm to come to Harry Potter but it was still causing a strange feeling of surprise and sickness. He pulled the overlarge sweatshirt over his back pocket, obscuring his wand.

He walked slowly down the stairs and then through a hall. He could see Harry sitting at a table with a newspaper spread out in front of him. He was scanning it frantically as if Madam Pince would soon be by to pull it out from under his nose.

Draco took a moment to stare around the kitchen. He'd snuck into the Hogwarts kitchen a few times to get food late at night and even been in the kitchen of his own house when he wanted cookies after his parents were asleep but this place was strange. The Malfoy kitchen was of course immaculate thanks to their house elves but somehow this place made it seem dingy and dank. The whole room almost shone and looking around at strange appliances he didn't recognize Draco felt out of place and uncomfortable. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat to prepare something snarky to say to Harry but nothing like he wanted managed to make it out of his mouth.

"I don't suppose I could get something to eat, Potter?" He was pleased that he at least managed to drawl the words with his normal arrogance but they felt empty and he suspected they sounded affected.

"Draco!" Harry practically leapt out of his chair and gave a frantic glance out a window. Draco could hear voices beyond and supposed that's where the muggles were. Harry bit his lip and rushed over to a large, gleaming white cabinet that stretched from the floor almost to the ceiling. He pulled it open and pulled a few things out. "You'd better get back upstairs before my uncle sees you!" He shoved an apple and two carrots into Draco's hands.

Draco stared at his hands and opened his mouth to ask again for food intending this time to note that he hadn't eaten since last night when a door creaked open and a larger man than Draco had ever seen walked through it. Harry froze and Draco judged from the way his whole body tensed that he should be preparing for something explosive.

"Who are you?" The man's eyes swept over him, cold and wary. His eyes came to rest on the food that Draco was holding. Draco didn't have time to open his mouth to make a suitable reply. He instead watched in amazement as the man's face began to turn red and then purple.

The next few moments passed in a blur, leaving Draco rather unsure about what exactly had happened. The man had lunged for him screaming something about a thief stealing food, then there was a flash of light and a feeling of electricity that made Draco's hair stand on end. The huge man was thrown backwards in the flash, crashing through the door taking it off its hinges and splintering wood in all directions.

Draco's heart had started to rush but now it was calming again and a charge as if he had run his feet across a rug seemed to be settling down on his skin like dust disturbed by a wind. He stared at the wreckage of the door dumbfounded. Had he just cast a spell? If he had the Ministry would be here in a few moments. Panic seized him.

Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Upstairs! Quick!" He rushed out of the kitchen. Draco followed him as they dashed up the stairs and into Harry's room. As soon as the door was safely closed Harry whirled on him.

"What was that!?" He demanded.

Draco almost threw up his hands but managed to gather his composure in time. "I have no idea, Potter." He managed to sneer. "My wand was in my back pocket." He twisted his hips to reveal the strange shape sticking out of the back of the over large sweat shirt.

Harry blinked and seemed to calm down. "Did it feel like a static charge?" When Draco nodded warily, Harry nodded as if he understood. "Oh then you didn't really do magic…" He was interrupted by the sound of a storm erupting somewhere downstairs.

"Ahh bugger, here comes Uncle Vernon." Harry groaned. "Quick, hide!"

Draco opened his mouth to protest and say something about how Malfoys didn't hide from muggles when Harry shoved him in the wardrobe, tossed something heavy over his head, and slammed the door. Draco stewed for several moments ready to burst out of the closet and give Harry a piece of his mind but a moment later a door burst open and there was a lot of screaming. Suddenly reminded of his hunger Draco decided to ignore the screaming and yelling that was coming from the room outside and eat the small amount of "food" that Harry had given him. He'd always heard that a starving people said that the food they were given was the most delicious thing they'd ever tasted and he'd always scoffed. Now he was discovering that it was true. He couldn't remember ever having an apple that was quite this good.

"There – was – boy! Food!" A man's voice was stuttering and spitting.

"I've been up here the whole time!" Harry's voice insisted tiredly. Draco had to give him a few points there. He'd never pinned Harry for an outright liar. He munched on the first carrot.

"Don't lie to us, boy!" A woman's voice screeched shrilly. "The door's blown off its hinges! Who else could it have been except for you!"

"Blonde boy! Food!" The man sputtered again.

Draco sat very still, pausing as he ate the second carrot. He'd only heard a few vague rumors about Harry's muggle family since Harry didn't talk about them much. One of those vague rumors had said that they had once chained him in his room and listening to them scream he was wondering if it were true. If they would do that to a person who was supposed to be their kin Draco wondered what they would do to him.

"Perhaps I would've been safer with the Death Eaters." He thought as he listened to the banging and the hooting of an annoyed owl.

"I _told_ you there's no one here!" Harry's voice was almost drowned out by the owl who was now hooting louder than ever.

"Shut up, boy!" The man's voice bellowed. "He's in here somewhere!" The door of the wardrobe was yanked open so hard the whole thing rocked. Draco froze and stared up at the large purple face but the beady eyes seemed to stare through him. The muggle started to deflate and turned around as if at a loss to prove his rage.

"Move out of the way, Vernon! There must be someone in there!" The blimp stepped aside and Draco was looking at a slip of a woman with an unpleasant face. She too, stared right through him. She pushed aside the clothes and felt the back of the wardrobe above Draco's head. He found himself ducking a bit to avoid her hand.

"Shall I turn down my bed too?" Harry said a bit too sweetly.

"If there's no one here!" The blimp was speaking again even though he was rapidly shrinking to a normal size. "Why is the door downstairs blown to bits?"

Draco couldn't hear Harry's reply as the door was slammed shut again. His heart began beat at a normal pace again as he sat dumbfounded wondering what had just happened and then it hit him. Harry's damn invisibility cloak! He'd seen it once in Hogsmede; it must've been what Harry had thrown over his head. He had to give Potter credit for quick thinking. He ate the rest of his carrot as quietly as he could as he listened to the muffled yelling and searching. The door of the wardrobe opened again and the skinny woman made another search but with the same results. After sometime the door slammed and footsteps stormed off down the hall.

Harry opened the wardrobe a few moments later and reached foreword as if trying to find something he knew was there but couldn't see. Draco pushed the cloak off his head and Harry took it back and stuffed it into an open and considerably gone through trunk.

"I'll have to get out of the house for a while during the day now." He mumbled, moving the owl's cage back onto his desk. "Maybe the window…" he murmured. The owl was sitting on top of the wardrobe looking annoyed. "Come on down, Hedwig." The owl only hooted and ruffled her snowy feathers.

"I'm surprised you haven't blasted them." Draco admitted, checking his wand for damage and finding that he very much wanted to be snarky and mean to Harry now that he had been fed and rested but for some reason he couldn't manage one snarky comment. His head, on cue, began to ache as he thought about it. He could add all that to the fact that Harry had just hidden him from a rather large, angry muggle. He stared at his wand as he tried to think of a scathing remark but his mind remained annoyingly blank.

Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged. "You're not going to be able to stay here." He noted, "But you can't leave on a broom in the middle of the day." He retrieved the broom from under the bed.

"I'll leave tonight after sunset." Draco murmured still staring at his wand as the realization slowly hit him that he had no idea what he was going to do once he reached Diagon Alley. Just how much money did he have? Would he be able to get more out of the Malfoy vault at Gringotts? He put his wand back into his pocket.

"Before you leave then I want to know everything." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him.

"What?" Draco was pulled out of his frantic thinking and planning.

"Tell me about Voldemort!" Harry hissed. "What's he planning? What's he doing?"

Draco flinched when Harry said the name, even his own father had never used the Dark Lord's name. He crossed his arms over his chest, clutching the burn with one hand. It throbbed painfully.

Harry wasn't satisfied until Draco had told the whole story at least twice. He was dissatisfied with Draco's information that much was apparent but it made Draco feel sick to talk about it.

Once the sun had set, Draco changed back into his robes. He was more comfortable and sure of himself once he was back in his familiar clothing. He took his broom from where Harry had propped it up against his desk and pulled open the window.

"Where are you going to go?" Harry asked from where he sat on the bed.

"I told you already." Draco said as he sat on his broom and hovered it slowly through the open window. He heard Harry's voice say something else but he ignored it and flew upwards, leveling out just under the clouds. He searched the horizon and stopped suddenly. What direction was Diagon Alley? He flew a bit lower until he spotted a place to land. He reached for his wand as his feet touched the ground but paused once again. Would the Ministry catch him if he tried a simple Point spell? He was standing in the middle of a muggle neighborhood; as incompetent as they were, they would probably pick up his spell instantly. If his father had alerted the Ministry that he was missing they would be quick to place him into custody and then turn him over to his father. But he had no doubt that the Death Eaters were still looking for him so he couldn't afford to stay in once place. It seemed that no matter what he did someone would find him. He held his wand tightly as he tried to decide between the two.

As he stood there slightly off the road, hidden by a few trees there was a sudden pop and a screaming sound that made Draco jump to one side, wand at the ready. A large purple triple-decker bus came to a screeching halt just a few feet from him. He stared at the gold letters blazed across the front windscreen. The Knight Bus. He stared at his wand for a few moments as he wondered why he hadn't thought of calling for it sooner. He had just regained his composure and stopped feeling quiet so stupid when a lanky big eared boy in a purple uniform with a bright, polished name tag appeared in the doorway.

"Any bags?" He scanned the street, "No? Hop on board then!" Draco followed him through the door and into the candle lit interior. "I've got a few comfortable chairs. Where can we take you?" Stan said, leading the way from the first up to the second level.

"Diagon Alley." Draco murmured as he fumbled for his money bag. He wasn't sure how much he had with him. His father had once used the Knight Bus but the only thing Draco had ever heard about it, besides the fact that it was purple, was that it had been a horrible experience.

"Eleven sickles!" Stan chirped as he waved Draco to a chair. "For two more you'll get a cup of hot chocolate and for another two you can have a hot water bottle and a toothbrush in your choice of color." He turned to collect the money when his pimpled face broke into a wide grin. "Hey! I know you!"

Draco paled a bit as he found his pouch and took out eleven sickles. He was about to stammer something in reply but Stan interrupted him, grinning like a fool.

"Arthur! Arthur Warrington!" He bellowed extending his hand for Draco to shake. "I'd know your hair anywhere! No one else is as blonde as you are, Arthur!"

Draco accepted the bone jarring hand shake with a dumbfounded expression that he fought to remove from his face as quickly as possible. "Arthur Warrington?" He wondered to himself. He'd never heard that name before in his lifetime. He'd often been told that he looked like his father but never anyone named Arthur. The only Arthur he knew was the red headed muggle loving Weasley.

Stan didn't seem to notice. "How have you been? Still at school? Must be almost done by now."

"Yes." He said, handing over the coins as he sat down, suddenly very grateful that Arthur had blonde hair although he was confused that whoever Arthur was, his hair was his defining feature. He tucked his broom at his feet.

"No hot chocolate for you tonight, Arthur?" He counted the coins in his hands, catching hold of another arm chair as the bus jolted into motion. Draco gripped the arms of his chair as the lurching and rumbling threatened to throw him out of his seat and further down the car another wizard apparently didn't have a good enough grip and was tossed into the aisle.

"No thank you." Draco said firmly.

"Alright then, I'll come up for you when we arrive. Got a few stops before yours. I'd stay to chat but I'm working you understand. Good to see you again, Arthur!" Stan strode down the aisle, catching himself on the walls with every lurch. "You alright there, sir? Up you go, there you are!" He helped the old wizard back into his seat before he vanished back down the stairs.

Draco quickly learned what had led his father to complain about the experience. He had ridden on rogue brooms that were smoother. He had been hungry before and looking forward to a nice dinner at the Leaky Cauldron but as the ride wore on he found that he was very glad that he hadn't eaten that much at Harry's home.

He had been ignoring feelings on leaving Harry's house and now that he had a moment to think everything rushed foreword to demand attention. He'd been almost nice to Harry and the wonder boy had been civil in return. The warm feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach was threatening to make him ill, although he couldn't be sure that it wasn't the lurching of the bus causing that sensation. He made a vain attempt to tell himself that he was _never_ nice to Harry Potter and that his failings recently had been due to exhaustion, cold, and hunger.

Draco had thought to count the rest of his money while he was sitting on the bus but he was afraid to let go of the chair lest he fly into the aisle and crash into the opposite wall the same way the wizard at the end of the row did every time the dreadful thing stopped.

"Your stop, Arthur!" Stan called from the stair well as the bus came to another bone jarring halt. Draco almost didn't respond as he wondered which lucky wizard was able to leave the nightmare before he remembered that for the duration of his time here he was Arthur. He jumped to his feet and retrieved his broom from across the aisle and under another chair.

"Next time we'll have to have a proper talk, Arthur, it's been too long." He gave Draco's hand another hearty shake. "Take care now!"

Draco stepped gratefully onto the ground with a noncommittal sound in Stan's direction. There was a scream and the feeling of rushing wind as the Knight Bus vanished. He hurried through the door of the Leaky Cauldron before pausing and fishing out his money pouch. He could see six galleons and some sickles. It wasn't that much considering he wanted to buy a room for almost a week. His arm started to throb and he looked around fearfully, expecting Death Eaters to come rushing through the front door.

"Looking for a room, lad?" An old, bald man with a toothless grin appeared from around a table. He put down his stack of dishes and cleaned his hands on his apron. "Parents sent you up early for school, did they?" He tottered over to the desk and pulled a large book towards him. "Let's see. Let's see. Yes, how about I have room 6 made up for you." He looked up at Draco. "That suit you, lad?"

"Yes, just fine." Draco murmured as he walked towards the desk.

"Sit yourself down for some dinner, I'll come get you when it's ready." Tom waved him towards a table.

Draco sat at his table the next morning, enjoying his breakfast as he tried to think of excuses he could use on the Goblins at Gringotts bank. He'd been there with his father many times before and each time the Goblins required a key or a letter to open the vaults. If the Goblins did allow him into the vaults, he could gather money, as much as he could carry, to buy some things he badly needed now and perhaps even manage to hide until the start of the school term. He knew he would be safe from his father once he reached Hogwarts but he had to survive long enough to catch the train and even on the train he wouldn't be safe. There were the sons of Death Eaters to worry about, would Crabbe and Goyle still be loyal to him? He swirled the coffee in his mug, trying to decide if it would be safe to show his arm to Dumbledore. He knew from his father that the headmaster was the enemy of the Dark Lord but would he assume that Draco was an enemy too? His head started to throb again and he took a long drink from his mug, finishing the lukewarm coffee. He was about to ask for another when a large brown and tan owl flew in through one open window. It landed in an exhausted heap on his table.

Draco stared at it for several long moments before he recognized the poor creature. "Balor!" He reached for the eagle owl that looked as if it had flown for days without rest. At the sound of his voice it rose in the most dignified manner that it could muster and extended one shaky leg. Draco took the rolled scroll and pushed the last of his sausage towards the exhausted bird. It hooted gratefully and bolted the offered food.

"Must be urgent." Tom the landlord had come over with a skewer of sausages. "Owls normally wait at the Post Office." He pushed a few more onto Draco's plate before he wandered off to tend the rest of the guests. Balor hooted and eyed the sausages.

"Go ahead." Draco said as he examined the scroll, looking for a seal. "Go ahead and eat, Balor." The owl started eagerly on the rest of the sausages and Draco turned the scroll over in his hands. His stomach sank, fear wrapped in a cold, lead ball as he saw his mother's own personal seal. He looked around fearfully once more, there a few old witches were chatting over their eggs and an old wizard was reading his morning newspaper, but he couldn't see any white masks or hooded figures in black robes.

Finished with the sausages, Balor began to groom his feathers. Draco broke the seal and opened the letter. His mother's elegant handwriting filled the page and a small key fell out and clattered onto the table.

Draco,

It is my last hope that Balor knows where to find you. I have wondered long how to get word to you without alerting the Dark Lord of your location. I fear that Lucius may have already found you.

Lucius and I have sent your school things and funds to your own vault at Gringotts' Bank. You should be aware that the Dark Lord has ordered your death. You may consider this letter the last communication between us. You are no longer our son.

Narcissa Malfoy

Draco read the letter twice before he picked up the plain, heavy key, engraved with the number 246. "That takes care of my school things." Draco murmured to Balor who had finished the sausages and was pecking dubiously at the remains of Draco's toast. He could feel tears trying to form in his eyes and he harshly reminded himself that Malfoys didn't cry. "But you're no longer a Malfoy." The words raced across his mind before he could stop them and the banished tears threatened to return. He shook his head hard and took a deep breath. He hadn't really expected his parents to forgive him but the letter confirmed his fears in the worst possible way.

"Come on, Balor. I'll take you up to my room and you can rest there."

Draco left the owl in his room, perched on the end of the bed, while he went to Gringotts to retrieve his trunk. He'd always hated the ride down to the vaults but after his experience on the Knight Bus he found it to be almost pleasant. His own vault was much smaller than the one he'd seen his parents use but his trunk was just inside the door with Balor's cage resting on top. He was surprised to see, beyond that, the pile of galleons. It wasn't much by Malfoy standards but it was twice as much as Draco had expected. He gathered some into his pouch before he arranged for his trunk to be transported to his room at the Leaky Cauldron.

He stepped out onto the busy street and turned to go to the Apothecary. He didn't know what he would need for school yet, but he knew that his potion supplies were very low. He had just reached the bottem of the steps when a familiar face made him freeze. His father was standing at the entrance of Knockturn Alley. His brain told him to turn and run up the street before he was spotted but for some reason he remained rooted to the spot.

Lucius raised his head, his face running the range from sorrow to rage as he pointed his wand. He opened his mouth and attempted to say something but he snapped it shut. Lucius' face seemed to have settled on sorrow and his hold on his wand faltered as if reluctant to cast the spell.

"Crucio!"

Draco screamed as he doubled up in pain, hitting the ground hard as tears sprang into his eyes. Fire poured through every nerve of his body for what seemed like hours but it vanished only a few seconds later.

"Stop that man!" Someone was screaming.

"It's no good, he's Apperated!" Someone else yelled back.

Draco feared for a moment that the spell had blinded him but his eyes opened, leaving him to stare up dizzily at the concerned faces trying to remember when he had closed them.

"Who cast the spell on ya, lad?" A wizard with deep brown skin and short curly black hair was staring down at him. "Who threw the curse?"

Draco stared dumbly back. It had been his father, except the letter had stated that man was no longer his father. His time in flight had up until now, seemed less than real, as if it were a dream and he would wake up in his room. Reality suddenly crashed down around him making it hard to breathe. It would be easy, he could tell them and they would ensure that he remained safe until school started, perhaps they would even turn him over to Dumbledore. He wanted to tell them but then his father and possibly his mother would be caught and sent to Azkaban. He opened his mouth but couldn't manage to speak the simple words; he couldn't bring himself to say them. He knew his family wouldn't offer him the same mercy if they found him again so he knew it was foolish to give it.

"I don't know." He said, gasping for breath.

The man sighed and rose to his feet. "Poor boy, didn't even see the blighter."

Amid the confused and anxious chatter a mediwizard appeared a moment later to examine him. A few moments later he was declared just fine for someone who had taken an Unforgivable curse. Draco rose to his feet, allowing a young wizard nearby to help him; he was too dazed to refuse. He wondered if perhaps someone had recognized him, since no one had bothered to ask for his name. Would they be trying to contact his parents to inform them of the attack? He should've worried about this possibility but he couldn't manage it.

His father had been sent to kill him of that much he was certain. His father now knew he was in Diagon Alley but would his father expect him to run or would he call the Death Eaters and return for him later? He allowed himself to be escorted back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron.

Balor hooted at him as he entered the room. Draco sat down on his bed and stared at the owl for a few moments before getting up and throwing open his trunk. He had to decide what he was going to do. He dug through his Hogwarts uniforms. Where would he go if he tried to run? The only truly safe place he could go would be Hogwarts but that was far to the North and he would have to carry his trunk. A sudden flash of light and movement interrupted his thoughts and he reached for a shiny object, half hidden in his thick winter cloak. A faltering broom flew jerkily through a patchy blue sky. He held it carefully in his hands remember the face of the young Gryffindor girl as he had pulled her out of the sky. Why had he saved her? Because he had wanted her to live. He realized rather abruptly that he wanted to live. His will had been dimmed by his father's appearance in Knockturn Alley.

"I'm worth something, even if its to the wrong people." He told himself as he tucked the medal back into its safe place.

He would stay here until he could return to Hogwarts. If he tried to run he might never be able to get back to the safety of the school. Diagon Alley afforded a certain amount of protection: since the attack had happened here there was a chance that Ministry wizards would be on their guard.


End file.
